Glimpses at a Future Imperfect
by sillysongswithlarry
Summary: Keeping their relationship a secret under Umbridge's reign was hard enough for Hermione and Draco before someone decided to muck about with time. Now there are new students taking shelter at Hogwarts, their names and appearances as familiar as they are foreign, and only two secrets remain: Just what drove them to risk the timeline, and who exactly is this Professor Riddle?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, nor its characters. They are the property of JK Rowling.

Rated M for safety, although I do not expect there to be any explicit content. Mild cursing, some references to adult themes. If you find that the story has been mis-rated, speak up so that I can change it to whatever is most appropriate.

This will be a Dramione romance, so if that's not your cup of tea... Well, you were warned.

I am not British, although I do make an effort to stick to British terms when writing for this fandom. Still, I'm bound to make mistakes, so if I miss anything, feel free to point it out.

The general idea for this fic, that of the next generation coming back in time and meeting their parents, was inspired by a Drarry fic I read many, many years ago. I can't recall the name, but if anyone knows, inform me and I will credit the author. That said, my story will, I hope, be vastly different in terms of plotline, themes, and characterization.

As should be evident by the pairing, aside from a few exceptions, I will be ignoring canon couples.

Oh! Also, this fic will have straight couples, gay couples, and, in at least one case, parents in a non-romantic relationship. If you have a problem with any of that, please do both of us a favor and don't read. Really. You won't enjoy it, I won't enjoy it, and I imagine no one else will either.

**Glimpses Into A Future Imperfect**

**Chapter One**

"Well, well. Here I was, looking for the Slytherin common room, but instead I find a swotty Gryffindor _lurking_," a voice drawled from behind Hermione.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Hermione said, not bothering to turn around. "You're in your fifth year and you still haven't managed to locate your common room? How is it you're beating me in Charms?"

A hand snaked around her waist, pulling her close, and he laughed lightly in her ear. "I've always been more charming than you, Granger."

"Smug little snake," Hermione groused, but leaned back against his warm body nonetheless. After all, it was cold in the dungeons. If she took advantage of the body heat, well then, that was only logical, right? "Anybody could walk by, Malfoy. You might want to be a little more careful."

"Are you daft? I cast a privacy spell before I got within five feet of you. No way I'm risking Umbridge catching us together," Malfoy shuddered. "Can you imagine?"

Hermione grimaced, tracing light circles on his arm with her finger. "I rather thought you did this for the thrill, Malfoy. It doesn't get your blood pumping, the thought of being found out?"

Malfoy's grip on her tightened. "Is that what you're in this for, Granger? Slumming it with a Slytherin for the sake of rebelling against your lion friends?" Despite his sneer, she sensed genuine hurt in his voice. "I'm not risking my reputation just to get my rocks off."

"I'm not either," Hermione assured him. "I may be a Gryffindor, but that kind of thrill-seeking doesn't really appeal to me. Though I admit, it's nice to hear that you're more invested in this than just an opportunity to corrupt the 'Gryffindor princess', as you're so fond of saying."

Malfoy smirked. "That _is_ a wonderful side benefit, but not worth risking my family's ire over."

"What would they do?" she asked idly. "If they found out, I mean."

Malfoy's lips thinned. "You don't want to know," he answered.

She eyed him drolly. "Have you met me?"

That would normally have coaxed at least a chuckle out of him, but his expression remained grim. "Mother would only try to talk me into leaving you, and, when that didn't work, try to dredge up blackmail on you to either force you to leave or convince me that you weren't worthy of my time. Father, however, would likely try to have you killed, and he'd not be too lenient with me, either."

Hermione frowned. "Draco…" she said, worried for him.

He pulled away from her. "Leave it alone, Hermione. I know what he is, but he's still my father."

"I know," she said, biting her lip. "It can never be easy, can it?"

"That's the bloody truth," Malfoy said sourly. Hermione fell into a thoughtful silence, but Malfoy tugged on her arm, lacing his fingers through hers. "What are you doing down here, anyway, Granger?"

"Oh!" Hermione said. "I needed to speak to Professor Snape," she explained.

"Don't tell me you're upset over that Exceeds you earned on the last essay?" Malfoy smirked. "Expecting Professor Snape to give a Gryffindor an O, regardless of ability, is like expecting a kelpie to do a backflip—If he ever did, he would die."

"N-No!" Hermione denied, blushing. "How did you even _know _I got an Exceeds Expectations?"

"I have my ways," Malfoy said smugly, then rolled his eyes at her glare. "Weasley was shooting his mouth off about it. 'Blimey, what's got into her? If Snape ever gave me an E, I'd stick it to my wall forever—after I checked it for poison, that is.'" For someone who vehemently despised Ron Weasley, Malfoy did a marvelous impression of him.

Hermione scowled. "How rude."

Malfoy's smirk widened. "Expecting Weasley to have manners is like expecting a kelpie to do a backflip—"

She interrupted him with a laugh. "I get it, I get it. He'd die first." She squeezed his hand, swinging their joined arms gently. "Smart arse."

Malfoy grinned delightedly. "Why, if only your housemates could hear you now, cursing like a dragon tamer. Their poor saintly ears would bleed."

"Merlin, you're a bad influence, Malfoy!" she laughed, shoving him playfully. He pulled her close in response, kissing her gently. She leaned into the embrace.

When they separated, Malfoy asked, "So if it's not about your _abysmal _Potions score—"

"Call my grades abysmal one more time, Malfoy, I _swear_—"

Malfoy continued louder. "Then what do you have to talk to Professor Snape about?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm not sure I'm allowed to say…"

"Granger…" he warned.

"Oh, alright. But do keep it quiet. We don't want Umbridge getting wind of it." That would be a disaster and a half. "I was studying in the library not long ago, and there was a large spike in magical energy—worryingly large. It wasn't dark magic, but… well, we can never be too careful at a time like this, can we?"

Malfoy frowned. "Well, why are you going to Snape? He doesn't exactly like you. Why not McGonagall, or even Dumbledore?"

Hermione blanched. "Don't… Don't worry about it, Draco."

Malfoy's eyebrows lifted in shock. Her reaction—and her use of his first name—meant she really wanted him to drop this. "You're not making _sense."_

She bristled. "I _am, _just not to you." She took in a deep breath, then let it out. "Umbridge is watching Professor McGonagall much more closely, and the headmaster has been avoiding Harry, Ron, and me all year—not that that's particularly difficult for him, given that we're students and he's not a teacher, but I don't want to risk him brushing me off."

"Nice excuses," Malfoy said drolly. "Now for the real reason."

"That _is—"_

"You don't trust Snape," Malfoy said. "Or at least, as of last year, you didn't. You would go to Sprout or Vector or maybe even batty old Trelawney before you'd trust him with a potential threat. What changed?"

"Not _Trelawney. _I doubt she's working for Voldemort, but she also wouldn't be very helpful," Hermione grumbled.

A little bit of clarity dawned on him. "So it's to do with the Dark Lord."

Hermione hissed, "Malfoy, I _really _can't tell you."

"That's fine," he said eventually, pulling her closer and tucking her head under his chin. He seemed to mean it. "Keep your secrets. If it's to do with the Dark Lord… It's better that I don't hear it."

"Draco…" she began. "I know it's hard, and I can't imagine, but when you decide… I'm here for you."

"_If _I decide to turn to your little rebellion, you mean," he snorted, but he made no move away from her despite the scorn in his voice. She took that as a good sign.

"Either way," Hermione offered. "I know I could never join that monster, but it's my family he's trying to kill, isn't it? It's not the same. And I won't judge you for it. I lo—"

"Don't say it," Malfoy said, panicked. "Not now. I can't…"

She fell silent as he composed himself.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually. "But if you say it, there'll only be one choice, and my family deserves more consideration from me than that."

She smiled softly despite the burn in her heart. "I'll keep it to myself, then."

"We shouldn't stay here for much longer," Malfoy said, looking around. "The spell I cast should alert us when someone approaches, but eventually a student will come through this corridor. We should get you to Snape."

"_Professor _Snape," she said, just to annoy him.

Sure enough, he groaned. "_Granger…_"

She could not keep the grin off her face.

"We all know you're a swot—You don't have to _advertise_," he grumbled.

"I think it's sweet that you pretend you don't study nearly as much as I do," she said, casting a muffling charm around them as Malfoy released the more extensive privacy charm. Unfortunately, since others could now see them, this meant that they were forced to travel a respectable distance apart as they trotted off down the corridor.

"Only _because _you do!" he groused. "If you didn't spend all your time in a bloody book, I wouldn't have to study half so hard to stay ahead in classes."

"You're _only _beating me in Charms, Defense, and Potions, and I would argue that you have something of an unfair advantage in the latter two," she protested.

Malfoy smothered a grin, mindful of how it would look to passersby. "Why, Granger, are you implying there are _flaws _in the academic process?"

She huffed but stayed quiet.

"Merlin, maybe the world _is _ending," Malfoy said with a snicker. "Perhaps I should be a bit more concerned about that magic disturbance you felt."

As it turned out, he really should have.

Malfoy left her at the door to Professor Snape's office, and she knocked only once her secret boyfriend had slipped out of sight. Merlin, that phrasing made her sound like the main character in some barmy romance.

"Enter," a deep, soft voice ordered. Hermione promptly opened the door and walked inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape greeted, very little pleasantness in his voice. "What brings you to my office at this hellish time of day?"

"Did you feel it?" Hermione blurted. "The disturbance, I mean?"

Professor Snape blinked, leaning back in his desk seat. A little late, Hermione took in the lack of work parchment on the desk and the layer of soot on his robes that told her he had just returned from a trip through the Floo. "No," he answered simply. "What, exactly, was this disturbance?"

"It was massive," she explained. "And it was _familiar. _If you hadn't been training me to recognize these things, I might have just chalked it up to a fluctuation in Hogwarts's natural magic. But there was something different about it, like it wasn't quite _our _Hogwarts."

"And you are not mistaken?" Professor Snape demanded. When she bristled, he snapped, "Spare me your childish pride, girl. This is serious, and I must know how _accurate _your findings are."

"There's always the chance I'm mistaken," Hermione admitted though it galled her. "But I am fairly confident I'm not. I can show you, if you like."

"You'll allow me to enter your mind?" Professor Snape asked with an arched eyebrow.

She had never offered before, but something told her that this was important, and by this time, she was confident enough in her Occlumency that she could force him out if he approached anything truly important—i.e., her relationship with Malfoy. "Yes, sir. I'll thank you to stick to the pertinent information, however," she said sternly.

Professor Snape sighed in aggravation at her tone, but allowed her words. "As you wish, Miss Granger." Brandishing his wand, he muttered, "_Legilimens." _This, she knew, was more for her benefit than his, as he was fully capable of casting the spell without wand or spoken incantation. She felt the memory play before them as he located it, and, true to his word, he ceased the spell immediately after viewing the memory.

Professor Snape took a minute or so to think, and she sank down to wait in one of the two carved mahogany chairs facing his desk. "For now, I would advise you not to worry about it, Miss Granger. You were correct in your observations—you should be pleased by that. I will search the area to locate whatever lingering traces of the magic exist, but I suspect I will uncover very little. From the pattern of the magic, I would say that this is a precursor to ritual transcommunication."

"You think someone is attempting to contact us? But why would they need a ritual to do so?" Hermione asked.

"Use your brain, Miss Granger," he said irritably. "You said yourself that this magic was reminiscent of Hogwarts—a _different _Hogwarts. How could that be?"

"You think…" She gaped. "I'm sorry, sir, are you implying someone has succeeded in achieving inter-dimensional communication?"

Professor Snape snapped, "Don't be foolish, girl. That's a _pipe dream, _if anything is. My suspicion is that some _dunderhead _has attempted to muck about with time. I don't suppose you know anyone who would do something so foolish?" He glared at her pointedly.

She huffed in offense. "That was—"

"Irrelevant," Professor Snape interrupted. "I should not have brought it up." He scrubbed at his eyes with a sigh. "My apologies, it has been a long day, and this is the _last _thing we need with the Ministry roaming about Hogwarts."

"You said it's a _precursor_, sir. Does that mean we should expect some sort of missive?" she asked.

"Or worse," he said darkly.

They discussed little more after that, and Hermione, noticing the fatigue in her mentor's eyes, took her leave, retreating to Gryffindor Tower for the night. Her sleep was fitful, and she rose early the next day, all of her dorm mates still sleeping in the faint light bleeding in through the tower windows. Despite the lack of urgency—there were no classes over the weekend—she decided to dress for the day, doing so quietly to avoid waking her tetchy dorm mates. Lavender in particular was far too attached to her 'beauty sleep'.

Grabbing her books, she padded down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, taking _Travails in Time Magic: When the Future Comes For You _with her. She ought to read up just in case.

As she had expected, the common room was sparsely populated, only Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee Jordan already awake. Hermione curled up on a sofa by the fire, some ways away from the three upper-years, who were clustered around a window talking in hushed tones.

Propping the book open, she began reading.

_Time magic, though it has been studied extensively, still remains a mystery, especially to the laywizard. Simply put, it is too complex a subject to be readily understood by anyone without considerable familiarity with its fundamental properties. Nevertheless, we will attempt to explain in readable terms exactly what sort of effects one can expect when dabbling with time magic. _

_Spells and potions rarely have the power or specificity necessary to enact changes in the flow of time, so the vast majority of time magic is enacted through rituals and artefacts. From the highly-regulated Time Turner to the esoteric Bloodline Retrieval ritual, there are numerous methods of achieving one's desired result through the manipulation of time. However, if there exists a risk-free or reliable method, witches and wizards have yet to discover it, as each known method carries with it great danger and high difficulty. If one stumbles across any act of time magic, one should take the most extensive precautions possible, as time magic rarely leads to a desirable outcome. _

That was far from reassuring. The text began, after that, to detail numerous attempts over the years to alter events through magic, and Hermione absorbed the information readily. Before she knew it, hours had passed, and her concentration was broken by a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at the offender, blinking confusedly, only to see Harry fixing her with a crooked grin. "I haven't seen you so absorbed in a book since, well, yesterday," he noted, and she heard Ron and Ginny laugh.

Ron was behind Harry, but she had to turn around to see that Ginny was lazily reclined on the sofa beside her. Hermione jumped, not having realized her presence _at all. _Ginny laughed harder at that, beaming at Hermione. "I've been here for an hour," Ginny informed her with a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. "You didn't notice _a thing._"

Hermione smiled sheepishly, brandishing her book. "It's quite the interesting read, in my defense."

"_Travails in Time Magic: When the Future Comes for You," _Ron read aloud. "Blimey, Hermione, don't you have enough experience with time travel?"

"Hush, Ronald!" she hissed, glancing around the room to see who might have overheard. Thankfully, no one seemed the least bit interested in their conversation. "That's meant to be a _secret."_

Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry cut the argument off before it could escalate. "Ron and I are off to breakfast. Would you two care to join?"

"Great," muttered Ginny. "I get a front-row ticket to Ron's dreadful table manners." Despite her words, she rolled off the sofa onto the floor, popping up onto her feet with a flourish. Hermione followed, smiling at her antics. "Let me just drop this off upstairs, and I'll be right with you."

Ron grimaced. "Hurry up, will you? I'm _famished._"

"Well, if you hadn't spent 15 minutes rowing with Seamus over a stray sock…" Harry began with a frown.

"And that's my cue," Hermione winced, then headed for the stairs. By this time, her dorm-mates were awake and readying themselves for the day, so she needn't be as quiet as before.

"Hey there, Hermione," Lavender greeted, seated on her bed with a hand mirror, painstakingly applying makeup. "We were wondering where you had got to."

"I was in the common room," Hermione explained, dropping her book onto her bed. She gritted her teeth when she caught Lavender's eye roll. _Reading again, _the girl was clearly thinking. "I'm down to breakfast now, though," she continued.

"We'll be down in a few minutes," Parvati said, pulling a pretty green blouse over her head and adjusting it in the mirror.

"Looking beautiful, my dear," the mirror praised in a raspy female voice. Parvati smiled but ignored it.

"Maybe closer to fifteen for me," Lavender complained. "I think I've ruined my eyeliner."

Hermione looked closely at her eyes. "It seems fine to me. Maybe a little heavy."

"That's exactly it," Lavender said with a frown. "Heavy eyeliner with my lacy skirt will make me look like a slag."

Hermione shut her mouth firmly. She refused to comment on that.

Parvati sighed. "Fifteen minutes, then," she said. "Go on, Hermione. I'm sure Weasley's waiting for you." Her voice was sour when she mentioned the redhead. She still had not forgiven Ron for his behavior at the Yule Ball. Harry, at least, had made the effort to apologize.

"You're probably right," Hermione groaned. "Bye, girls," she waved as she left the room, taking the stairs to the common room three at a time. She heard a chorus of "Bye"s on her way out.

"Took you long enough," Ron groused when she joined them at the portrait exit.

"Well, I'm here now, Ronald," she said exasperatedly, pushing him lightly towards the portrait. He swung it open and led the way out.

Neville stumbled out of the passage after them. "Wait for me," he called, apologizing when he accidentally ran into Ginny's back.

"It's fine, Neville," she said, fixing her shirt. He blushed.

"What's got you in such a hurry, Neville?" Harry asked.

"I'm expecting an owl from Gran," Neville explained, falling into step beside them. "She says it's important, and it must be for her to risk it right now."

"Because Umbridge is screening the mail?" Harry asked with a frown.

Neville nodded. "She's already confiscated a few letters and packages."

Harry scowled. "I can't believe they're letting her—"

Hermione shushed him. "Not here, Harry." Umbridge had yet to win the portraits over to her side, but they _were _approaching the more crowded areas of the castle. She would hate for Harry to earn yet another detention with that _vile _woman. Harry scowled, but he listened to her.

After that, Ginny brought up Quidditch, and she, Harry, and Ron fell into a discussion of seeker tactics, Neville listening but rarely contributing. Hermione tuned the conversation out, instead thinking over the repercussions of what she had read. By the author's analysis, anything that resulted from the ritual Professor Snape anticipated would be extremely dangerous, and in the current climate of Hogwarts, that was a very unwelcome development. If one had all of time with which to play, why would anyone choose _this _time? Wizarding Britain was practically a surveillance state on the cusp of war.

Breaking into a sprint, Neville slipped through the doors to the Great Hall, but the rest of them were stopped at the entrance by a sneering Pansy Parkinson. "Did you even bother brushing your hair this morning, Granger?" her high, strident voice mocked.

"Sod off, Parkinson," Ron spat. "If I had a pug face like yours, I wouldn't be saying anything about anyone else."

"No one can tell what _your _face looks like through all those _freckles, _Weasley," Parkinson screeched indignantly.

Ginny scowled. "Shut your mouth before I decide to get in some target practice, Parkinson."

"And if it isn't the Weaslette," Parkinson sneered. "You must be pretty enough, I suppose, or I wouldn't be hearing such _shining _reviews from every boy who's got in your knickers."

Ginny snorted, but Ron pulled a wand on Parkinson. "Shut up about my sister!" he snarled. Parkinson recoiled from his raised wand.

"Weasley, put it away!" an authoritative voice called before Hermione could chastise her friend. "Pulling a wand on another student—and you call yourself a prefect?"

"And you're so concerned with following the rules, Malfoy?" Harry demanded as the blond Slytherin approached.

"He's _right_," Hermione insisted, lowering Ron's wand arm herself. "If Parkinson wants to run her mouth off, just ignore her or else solve it with words, but we can't afford to bring attention to ourselves right now."

"It's a lost cause, Granger," Malfoy smirked. "Haven't you heard? Potter and the Weasel can't help but bring attention to themselves. It's just a shame all they ever manage to do is flaunt their own idiocy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, isn't it a little early in the morning to be picking fights?"

"For you, maybe. I've been up for hours, doing my _job. _Haven't you seen the new prefect orders?" Something in his tone warned her to take notice.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" Hermione asked with a furrowed brow.

"The Head Girl has taken sick, so the prefects are responsible for filing reports on the state of their houses. As fifth-years, we have to write them for all of the younger years," he explained. "Don't tell me the Golden Girl has forgotten to do her homework?" he taunted, but his raised eyebrow told her that he was serious about this.

Hermione fretted. "Nothing was posted in the common room." She had checked the notice board that morning.

Malfoy shrugged. "I suppose the information must've got lost on its way to Gryffindor tower. Such a shame." Translation: _Someone has it out for you and Weasley. _She resolved to work on it tonight.

Ron groaned. "Bloody hell. That sounds like a lot of work."

Malfoy sneered. "Suppose we've found the reason your father's been stuck for years at a dead-end place in the Ministry if that's the attitude your family has about doing their _job_, Weasley. I can't bloody believe they made you prefect."

"Shut it about my family, you prat," Ron snarled.

"Like your family ever worked a day in their life for all that money you have, Malfoy," Ginny said.

Hermione sighed. "Can we please just go one day without starting a row?" Hermione pleaded, rubbing at her temples. "It's giving me a headache."

"Best collar your attack dogs, then, Granger, before they give someone rabies," Malfoy said, a hint of concern in his eyes that she hoped no one else noticed.

"Come on, you lot," she said to Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Ron looked inclined to stay and argue, but she tugged on his arm firmly to drag him through the doors.

The Great Hall was mostly full by this time, and the three of them took their seats next to Neville, who was staring blankly at a letter in his hands.

"Neville, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"I…" He blinked dazedly, then quickly rolled the parchment up and stuck it in his robe pocket. From the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted Malfoy and Parkinson making their way to the Slytherin table. "Nothing! I mean… just some news." Clearly, he was loathe to talk about it here. She placed a comforting hand on his arm, but he did not seem to notice.

Breakfast passed quickly, with the usual chatter. When they had all finished eating, Harry invited Hermione to watch the rest of them play a chaser's game of Quidditch, but she declined, opting instead to head to the library and start on the house reports Malfoy had warned her about. Absorbed in her work, she failed to notice the sun's progress across the sky. By the time she resurfaced, ink staining her hands and eyes strained from writing, it was dinner time. She had skipped lunch completely.

Mentally cursing, Hermione quickly gathered her things and hurried to the Great Hall. As she sat, she greeted her friends with a blush, taking their teasing good-naturedly.

After they had their laughs at her expense, they fell into something of a companionable silence, listening in as Fred and George Weasley regaled Angelina and Katie with a tale of a prank they and Lee Jordan had played in third year. Lee grew redder and redder as they detailed the embarrassing incident. Hermione worked to maintain a disapproving expression, but it was difficult to stifle her giggles. Beside her, Harry and Ron were chortling, and Ginny had broken into wild cackles.

Fred noticed her expression. "What's wrong, Granger? Shocked and amazed by such _disreputable _behavior?"

"Bet she's never done anything scandalous in her life, Freddie," George added.

Hermione smirked, thinking of secret kisses behind tapestries and in abandoned classrooms. "I once magicked the cover of an Ancient Runes history to resemble my Charms textbook so that I could read in class," Hermione confided instead.

Fred and George burst into laughter, and Ron rolled his eyes, while Harry and Ginny just eyed her thoughtfully. Harry likely because he _knew _she had done things more scandalous than that—proposing an underground Defense club, for one—and Ginny because the girl seemed absolutely convinced that Hermione led some risqué double life. To be fair, as of this year, she was not entirely wrong.

"Sorry, Hermione, I don't think you're quite ready to join the big leagues," George said after he finished laughing.

"Keep practicing, though," Fred added. "Maybe one day you'll shuck that 'goody-two-shoes' title."

Scoffing, she answered, "I'm perfectly content not to scandalize half of Britain like that, but thanks for the encouragement, boys."

Fred chuckled. "Don't be afraid, Hermione. _Join us_."

"I think _not_," she replied, placing emphasis on the last word in a manner reminiscent of Professor Snape.

George opened his mouth to speak, but a large surge of magic and a blinding light cut off conversation across the hall. A few shrieks sounded, but mostly, students and teachers alike were struck dumb as the ambient magic swelled and people materialized throughout the room.

Hermione gaped along with the others as the newcomers blinked, looking around at their new surroundings. "We made it!" a tiny girl with olive skin and thick, almost white, shimmering hair said gleefully. Her voice carried the hint of a French accent.

From there, pandemonium broke out, everyone demanding answers or expressing their consternation. Hermione rose to her feet to try to restore order, and at the Slytherin table, she saw Malfoy do the same. Before either of them could make a move, a voice, clearly under the effect of _sonorus, _ordered, "Quiet, everybody. Keep your heads on, will you?"

Her words caused enough of a lull in the chatter that Umbridge, at the staff table, was given the opportunity to demand, "What _exactly _is the meaning of this, Albus?" She glared at Dumbledore as if it were all some nasty plot of his.

"I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest, Dolores," he answered mildly. "Perhaps our new arrivals might shed some light on the situation."

Someone stepped up to the High Table, wand still pressed to her throat, and Hermione finally caught a glimpse of the girl who had spoken over the _sonorus. _She wore a Hogwarts uniform, looked to be a seventh year, and her curly blonde hair was styled artfully over her shoulders. "Are you Headmaster Dumbledore?" she asked politely, lowering her wand. Her voice was no longer amplified, but with the near-complete silence in the hall, it carried with ease.

"I am, indeed," Dumbledore said. "And who might you be, dear girl?"

The girl wrinkled her nose as though to say, _I am _not _your dear girl, _but she answered respectfully. "My name is Andromeda Malfoy, and these are my schoolmates. It's lovely to meet you, Headmaster."

At the sound of her name, gasps rang out across the hall, but Hermione barely heard them over the beating of her heart. _This can't be happening. _

"Malfoy, did she say?" Fred said. "Reckon ol' Lucius has got another child hidden away somewhere?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," Umbridge coughed saccharinely. "Do you mean to say that you are related to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Yes, although I've never met my grandfather," Andromeda answered, and a bit of offense crept into her tone. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Hermione, in her state of heightened emotion, nearly laughed, the girl's tone so resembled Draco at his most piqued.

Umbridge drew herself up to her full height, seeming insulted that the girl had never heard of her. "Dolores Umbridge, Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic," she said.

"Miss Malfoy, might I ask who your parents are?" Dumbledore said, eyeing her curiously.

"Draco and Hermione Malfoy, sir," the girl smirked. "You might have heard of them."

"Indeed I have," Dumbledore answered, smiling with a twinkle in his eye.

The hall burst into chaos once again. Hermione's heartbeat stopped for one frantic moment, then began to pound furiously. She studiously avoided glancing at the Slytherin table. She was not sure she could bear seeing Malfoy's reaction to their secret being outed so explosively. Unfortunately, in looking away from the Slytherin table, she was forced to meet the flabbergasted gazes of her friends.

"'Mione… She can't mean you. Can she?" Ron asked.

"What other 'Hermione's' do you know, Ron?" Ginny asked dryly. "The more important question is how the hell did their child _get _here? Did these people time travel?"

Before Hermione could say anything, Andromeda's voice rang out over _sonorus _again, quieting the room. "Blimey, you lot are excitable. If you have a problem with my parents, do us a favor and stew in silence. If you're confused about the whole 'future' thing, however, I can explain."

"Andy, where's Professor Riddle?" a strawberry blond boy Hermione did not recognize asked from among the crowd. He must have come with Andromeda. "She was supposed to come with us."

"She's probably in another part of the castle, Louis. Don't worry," Andromeda—or perhaps Andy—assured him.

"Who is this Professor Riddle?" Dumbledore asked, something resembling panic in his eyes.

"Our Rituals professor, sir. She devised the ritual that sent us to the past," Andy answered.

"T-To the past?" Umbridge stuttered, face turning puce. "That's _highly regulated _magic. It requires all sort of Ministry provisions—"

"Professor Riddle has the necessary documentation with her," Andy cut Umbridge off. Hermione identified her expression as one that Malfoy often wore himself when dealing with Umbridge: carefully-concealed disdain coupled with extreme boredom. "She'll be happy to let you look at it, provided you have the proper security clearance."

"I—" Andy had once again managed to effortlessly ruffle Umbridge's feathers. "I am _Undersecretary to the Minister—"_

"So you've said," Andy acknowledged, turning to Dumbledore. "With your permission, sir, I'd like to get my fellow students settled in. We'll be staying here until someone triggers the ritual again from our future."

"And when will that be?" Dumbledore asked.

Andy shrugged lightly. "It will depend. We were sent here for safety reasons, sir, and there's really no predicting when the situation back home will be resolved."

"I will make the necessary provisions," Dumbledore said. "Though I'll need to speak to that professor you mentioned. Come with me, Miss Malfoy, and we'll discuss everything. Is there anyone else who should be present for the conversation?"

"The Heads of Houses, probably," Andy said thoughtfully. "And my fellow Head Boy, Ben Shacklebolt." A tall, broad, muscled boy stepped forward from the crowd to join Andy at the High Table.

"I insist I be there as well, Albus!" Umbridge interjected. "The Ministry must be kept apprised of _all _matters occurring within Hogwarts."

Andy's eyebrows raised slowly, clearly reflecting her thoughts: _Who does this crazy bint think she is?_

"Very well, Dolores," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Let us all go find this Professor Riddle and our wayward Heads of House." Turning to the students in the Hall, he spoke authoritatively. "In the meantime, feel free to get acquainted with one another. I'm sure questions abound. Enjoy this lovely dinner Hogwarts has provided." With that, he, Umbridge, and the two future students left the Great Hall, which slowly began to chatter amongst themselves again, this time less explosively.

"Time travel, eh?" George said, breaking the silence at Gryffindor table.

"Wonder how that works," Fred said, eyeing the newcomers as though planning how best to market this new phenomenon.

"Hermione…" Ginny began, staring at her levelly. "You have a child with _Draco Malfoy."_

"Well, not _yet,"_ Hermione corrected nervously. "But yes, it would seem that way."

"Why are you not more shocked by this?" Harry asked, something in his eyes she could not read.

Hermione deliberately misinterpreted his question. "I felt a surge in energy last night and went to a professor about it. He suspected the source originated from the future. I had thought it would be a message of some sort, however, not a mass transportation."

"Wait, really? Why didn't you tell us?" Harry asked, then shook his head. "Never mind, that's not what I meant. Why aren't you upset that _Malfoy's _the father?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, I'm not sure how to say this, but—"

"_Bloody hell, _this is _not _how I planned to spend my Saturday," a familiar aristocratic voice snarled as a head of blond hair pushed its way out of the crowd. "For once, I think I'll get fewer death glares on _this _side of the Hall."

Hermione tensed even as something in her chest relaxed. As much as his presence would make this even worse, she would be glad to have his support. "Malfoy," she sighed in relief.

"No need to refer to me so formally, Granger," he teased, smirking at her. "Since it seems we're married now." His voice was unnecessarily smug. Even though she could tell he was worried about the situation, it was apparent that _something _about her being married to him in future had stroked his ego.

"Hermione would _never _marry you, you ferrety prat," Ron spat.

Malfoy scowled at him. "Clearly, she did, unless you think she got the name _Hermione Malfoy_ from a clerical error."

"You must have dosed her with a love potion or dark magic or something," Ron demanded, rising to his feet, hands splayed against the table.

"And you think our future selves just stood by and let it happen, Ron?" Harry asked quietly before Hermione could step in. "No, Hermione _chose _him."

"Harry…" she reached towards him but let her hand fall, discouraged by the blank look in his eyes. "Don't… Don't take this as a betrayal."

Harry's lips pressed together tightly, but he shook his head, and Hermione exhaled in relief.

"Why are you so happy about this, Malfoy?" Ginny said, eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you be cursing your future self for ruining your precious pedigree?"

Malfoy visibly bit his tongue before replying, "If I wanted to be questioned over my future self's life choices, Weasley, I'd still be at the Slytherin table."

"Mother!" a voice said. "Finally, I found you." Once again, a boy around their age with blond hair stumbled out of the crowd, but she spotted the differences between him and Malfoy—Draco, she should say, to avoid confusion—immediately. His facial structure, though still masculine, was far closer to hers. "And Father, you're here, too. Brilliant."

"We have a son, as well, then?" Draco asked, with a gentle smile that must have been involuntary. "You seem younger than your sister."

"You saw Andy, did you? She was brilliant, keeping everyone quiet like that. S'pose it's kind of her job, though, as Head Girl." the boy said enthusiastically. "But you're right, Father; she's in seventh year and I'm only in fifth." The boy grinned, then looked around at the others at the table. "Aunt Ginny?" he said. "You look younger than I am!"

"I reckon I am," Ginny admitted. "Who are you, then?"

"Scorpius Malfoy," the boy answered. "I'm surprised your daughters haven't come looking for you. I suppose they went after their other mother first."

"'Other mother'?" Ron repeated. "Ginny, what the bloody hell is he talking about?"

"Apparently I had a child with a girl, you prat. Never heard of the ritual?" Ginny said sardonically.

"Wait, are you talking about those two firsties? Hyacinth and Juniper, I think they said." Draco asked curiously.

"Juniper is in second year, actually. So you've seen them, Father?" Scorpius said.

"They're over with the Slytherins," Draco explained. "They _kindly_ drew the attention away from me while I… made myself scarce."

Hermione snorted. "You mean you fled. Like a frightened rabbit."

"Pansy's screeching was about to make my ears bleed," Draco scowled. "You'd have beat a hasty retreat, too."

"Wait, Gin had a kid with a Slytherin, as well?" Ron scowled. "Someone wake me from this bloody nightmare."

Ginny smacked him on the shoulder. "Get over it, brother. So who is she?"

"Your wife?" Scorpius asked. "Astoria Greengrass."

Ginny grinned appreciatively. "Not bad, future me."

Hermione was startled into a laugh. "Ginny!"

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Ginny chided. "_You_ married a Malfoy. And if you had two kids with him, that means you must have been undressing him in your mind for _years _now. Don't act all innocent."

Ron spluttered, and both Harry and Scorpius winced as though they really would have rather _not _had that mental image.

Draco simply smirked. "And only in her mind, I'm sure."

"Draco Malfoy, if you don't shut it _right now_, so _help me God—" _Hermione began vehemently.

"You've had sex with Draco Malfoy?" Ginny demanded, eyes gleeful, thankfully in such a low tone that only those in the immediate area heard it.

"That is _none of your business, _Ginny!" Hermione hissed just as quietly. She hadn't, as it happened, but they'd gotten close enough that she did not quite feel comfortable denying it.

"Merlin, Hermione," Ginny giggled. "And they think _you're _the innocent one."

Ron's face was turning redder and redder, but before his anger could spill over, another stranger joined them. "Here he is, Mum!" a redheaded first year said, tugging Hannah Abbott behind him. A brunette who somewhat resembled Hannah trailed after them, and Hermione guessed that she was a couple years older than the boy.

"Dad!" the boy said, clearly addressing Ron. "I brought Mum!"

Ron gaped stupidly. "You… You can't mean me?"

"Of course, I mean you!" the boy said.

"I… I have a son?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"And a daughter," the brunette contributed. "Rose Weasley, and this is my brother, Hugo."

"A-Apparently, they're mine, too," Hannah Abbott said sheepishly.

"I cannot believe Ron actually married someone sane, smart, and pretty," Ginny deadpanned. "Ron's right; this is a hallucination." Normally, that would have earned her a glare, but Ron was too busy staring at his future family to notice.

"What do you want to bet he bollockses the whole thing up?" Draco whispered into Hermione's ear, his breath tickling her neck.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Lay off, Malfoy. After what you started, I'm pretty sure you've set the record here for bollocksing relationships."

Draco snorted, unrepentant. "You were thinking it, too, Granger. Don't deny it."

"I had the good sense _not to say anything_," she hissed.

"What does it matter at this point, if they know we're already together?" he pointed out reasonably.

"I suppose," she admitted. "Still, you needn't be so crude."

He laced his fingers through hers, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and kissing the back of her hand. "Sorry, _Mia_."

Scorpius interrupted with a cough. "Mother, Father. You are in public right now." Sure enough, Ginny and Harry were watching the two of them with strange looks on their faces.

"They'll get used to it," Draco smirked while Hermione blushed.

"It's bizarre to see all of you so _young,_" Scorpius said, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet until his breeding seemed to kick in and he stopped. "Is that Professor Longbottom?" he asked suddenly, nodding towards Neville, who sat nearby but just out of earshot, a mixture of shock and dread on his face.

"_Professor Longbottom?" _Draco repeated incredulously. "How in the _bloody hell _did Longbottom become a teacher at Hogwarts_?_"

Hermione glared at Malfoy. "Neville is _brilliant, _Malfoy, even if you won't admit it." She turned to their son. "Let me guess, Scorpius—does he teach Herbology?"

Scorpius nodded. "I've never liked Herbology, but even I have to admit that Professor Longbottom knows his subject well." He added, "Andy's brilliant at Herbology, though, and Professor Longbottom's her favorite teacher. She spends more time and Galleons on plants for the Manor gardens than Daniel spends on Quidditch each year."

"Who's Daniel?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Oh, Daniel Flint-Wood. He's right..." Scorpius scanned the room, but soon gave up. "Well, I don't see him right now, but he's the son of two famous Quidditch players, and he's dead-set on following in his parents' footsteps."

"Which Quidditch players?" Ron suddenly asked, breaking off from his stuttered attempts at conversation with Hannah and their children. "Anyone from the Cannons?"

"Erm, no," Scorpius said. "I'm not quite sure which teams they play for."

"Oliver Wood plays Keeper for Puddlemere United," Rose interrupted primly. "And Marcus Flint is a Chaser for the Falmouth Falcons."

"That's it," Scorpius said. Hermione noticed he seemed bored by the very idea.

"Not very interested in Quidditch, are you?" Ginny noticed, as well. Amusement colored her tone. "Looks like your daughter is, though, Ron. Bet you're pleased with that."

Indeed, Ron was grinning crookedly at his daughter, who smiled in response.

Scorpius refuted Ginny's words. "I like Quidditch well enough _playing it. _Hard not to when you, Father, and Uncle Harry are so enthusiastic about it. I just don't follow the leagues, is all."

Draco sighed. "My son calls Potter 'Uncle'," he moaned. "This is all your fault, Granger." Harry scowled at Draco, but he truthfully seemed just as perturbed as his rival did.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two of them. "Wait a second," she realized. "Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood have _children _together? As in, they jointly decided to raise a family?"

"Yes…" Scorpius said slowly, a questioning note in his voice.

"Is that strange?" Rose asked. Hugo, meanwhile, was chatting happily with Hannah.

"Bloody hell, you're right, 'Mione. I didn't even notice that," Ron said, eyebrows shooting up. "Weird."

"I don't understand," Ginny said. "What's so surprising about that?"

"The two of them had an intense Quidditch rivalry," Ron explained. "You would have only been in second year when they graduated, Gin, but the two of them bloody hated each other. Every match, it was like they were trying to hurt each other as much as possible, get the other one out of the game."

Fred and George, who had vanished into the crowd earlier, returned to Gryffindor table, and they each clapped a hand on one of Ron's shoulders. "Mind you, we always did suspect there was something there," Fred said.

"Old Olly was always a bit _too _enthusiastic about some of his plans to rile Flint," George added.

"You two aged _well_," Scorpius blurted. "I didn't realize you were older than Mother and Father."

Draco muttered, "Figures the Weasley twins found a way to stay young forever."

Fred and George grinned at Scorpius. "Why, thanks, Mini-Malfoy," Fred said. "Say, what other juicy bits of gossip have you got?"

Scorpius's expression grew calculating. "What do you want to know?"

George laughed. "Hermione, look at him. I think that's the exact face you had when I asked you for help slipping a Pimple Pouf into Gin's makeup."

Ginny's eyes widened, and she whirled on Hermione. "That was _you?"_

Hermione pursed her lips. "As I recall, part of that deal was anonymity. I believe you two owe me compensation."

"What about _my _bloody compensation?" Ginny demanded.

Fred and George changed the subject hurriedly. "So, little blond—"

"Scorpius," Hermione interrupted.

"Scorpius," Fred allowed. "How did your mum and dad get together?"

"Got a little too plastered at the pub?" George suggested.

"Illicit business deal?" Fred said.

"Arranged marriage?"

"Heist to save Wizarding Britain?"

"Some bizarre legislation enacted by the Ministry?"

"Ill-timed pregnancy?"

An offended noise escaped Hermione's mouth.

"I don't understand," Scorpius said, eyeing Hermione and Draco in confusion. "At this age, they should already be dating."

Awestruck, gleeful grins bloomed on Fred and George's faces. "Hermione…" They turned on her. "What sordid secrets have you been hiding?"

"I've been secretly snogging Draco Malfoy," Hermione deadpanned, ignoring Draco's pleased demeanor. "I'm sorry, did you expect me to take out a memo?"

"'I'm perfectly content not to scandalize half of Britain like that', she says," Fred quoted with a ridiculous falsetto.

"I think she played us, George," George said, grinning.

"Right you are, Fred. I suppose she has more potential than we thought. Reckon she's done something more scandalous than most of us could ever aspire to."

Scorpius's eyes widened. "It was supposed to be a secret?" he asked, then winced. "I suppose Andy and me showing up was sort of inconvenient, then."

"Just a bit," Draco agreed, the haunted gleam in his eyes informing Hermione that he was doing his best to suppress the worries he had over his family's reaction. She leaned against his shoulder comfortingly, and he smiled at her.

"Aren't you two cute?" Fred cooed.

"Since the lot of you don't seem keen on asking," George added. "We'll just tell you where we've been, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response, Fred continued, "Turns out you aren't the only Weasley with a future wife, mate." He nudged Ron.

"Who'd want to marry you?" Ron grumbled in response. "Git."

"Dunno," Fred admitted. "Some witch named Verity. George and I met my kids, though, and they're a right laugh. Mind you, whoever named them had a nasty sense of humor. One of them is named Virginia, and I haven't the foggiest idea where 'Romulus' came from."

"Virginia? Like what Harry thought my name was?" Ginny laughed, nudging Harry.

"Ha-ha," Harry grumbled. "How was I to know?"

"That's so sweet that you named your daughter after me…" Ginny cooed to Fred.

"The twins—Valerie and Virginia—are only a year down from me," Scorpius noted. "They cause a lot of trouble for Louis, though, since they love to tease their cousins, and he's the only one in their year."

"Louis?" Hermione asked. "That's a peculiar name for a Weasley. Did one of Ron's brothers marry a French witch?"

"Yes," Scorpius grinned. "You love her, Mother. You, Father, and Aunt Fleur always speak French when you're together just to confuse the rest of the Weasleys."

Hermione blinked. Once, then twice. Harry burst into laughter. "Hermione… and Fleur Delacour… are best mates in the future?"

Hermione glared at him. "Merlin, Hermione," Harry grinned. "I think that's more surprising than your marrying Malfoy."

Ginny just arched an eyebrow. "Which one of my brothers landed a half-Veela?"

"Uncle Bill," Scorpius answered idly, eyeing Hermione in confusion.

Ginny thought for a few seconds, then shrugged. "I suppose that makes the most sense."

"Oi!" Each of her three brothers chorused.

"I don't understand, Mother. Do you and Aunt Fleur not get along right now?" Scorpius asked.

"Well, I have to admit, I don't really know her. She visited Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, and I was rooting for Harry, of course—"

Ginny snorted. "You talked so much trash about her, 'Mione, just admit it. You couldn't stand how she insulted Hogwarts and how she had all the boys trailing after her like idiots."

Hermione grimaced. "_Perhaps_ I misjudged her."

"That sounds like Aunt Fleur," Scorpius admitted. "She has a low tolerance for certain aspects of British culture. But she can't help her Allure, Mother," he chided.

Hermione felt like a scolded ten-year old under his silver stare. "I know, Scorpius. I shouldn't have blamed her for it."

Draco grinned at her. "I do love it when you admit you're wrong. Sweet music to my ears."

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Malfoy," she snapped. "It doesn't happen often."

"Do _you _know where the name Romulus came from, ickle Scorpius?" Fred asked him. "I can't wrap my brain around that one."

Scorpius frowned. "Something to do with the war, I think. Everyone always said it was to honor Teddy's father."

"Teddy?" Ginny repeated. "I'm getting tired of asking this, but who is Teddy?"

"Teddy Lupin," Scorpius explained. "He and Victoire—Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill's oldest—have already graduated."

"Lupin?" Harry repeated with a grin. "Remus has a son?"

Scorpius shifted nervously, and Fred and Hermione both frowned. "Scorpius…" Fred began. "Why would I need to honor Professor Lupin?"

"He, um… I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you this, but… Teddy's parents died in the war. He was raised by Uncle Harry and Aunt Luna." Scorpius seemed loathe to deliver the dreadful news.

Hermione's hand shot up to cover her mouth. "Remus dies?"

Scorpius nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You keep saying the war," Draco repeated, a dark look in his eyes. "Is it a war with the Dark Lord?"

Scorpius nodded again, and Draco clenched his jaw, sinking down onto the bench to hug Hermione to his chest, resting his head between her neck and her shoulder as tears welled in her eyes for her gentle werewolf. "So it will be war," Draco muttered, and only she heard it.

"Who else…?" Harry asked. "Who else dies?"

"No!" Ginny said. "Don't ask that. We shouldn't know."

"If it'll help us—" Harry began.

"You know that's not how it works," Hermione said, meeting his emerald eyes empathetically. "It's time magic, Harry."

"I can't just _let _him die!" Harry argued.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said glumly. "I didn't mean to, well…"

All of a sudden, Hermione was reminded that Scorpius was just as young as them, and probably even more lost. "It's not your fault, Scorpius. Don't worry."

"Bloody hell," George said, running a hand through his hair. "Anyone want to know about my kids?" he offered tentatively.

With a final worried glance at Harry and Hermione, Ginny encouraged him, "Well, go on then."

"They're over there with Angelina," George gestured down the table to his yearmate, who was surrounded by a gaggle of unfamiliar students, two of whom were twin boys, about a year older than Hermione, that shared Angelina's dark skin and hair and George's blue eyes. "Kyle and Logan. Little tykes. One of them tied my shoelaces together when I made to leave. Still haven't figured out which one. Bloody thrilling to be on the opposite end of the pranking for once, isn't it, Fred?"

"Angelina?" Hermione interrupted. "I'm sorry, didn't _Fred _take Angelina to the Yule Ball?"

Fred and George grinned. "Yes."

"Are you going to explain why _George _was the one to marry her?" Ginny prodded when they seemed content to leave it there.

"No," they chorused.

A girl about Hermione's age with long black hair, pale skin, black eyes, and painfully-straight posture swept over to their table, robes billowing around her. "Scorpius! Your sister jaunted off with my parents. Do us a favor and entertain me." She spoke with a somewhat familiar Scottish brogue.

Scorpius groaned. "Can't Dom or Biyu keep you busy?"

"Delacour can't stand me, and it turns out Chang's father is a monumental git," the girl said. "I've never seen a Hufflepuff so full of himself. 'Macmillan—Ernie Macmillan,'" she mocked. "But that just leaves you, I'm afraid." She examined Hermione and Draco curled up together. "Merlin, your parents are young as we are. Rather less intimidating like this."

"I'm sorry, you said our daughter ran off with your parents. Are they staff members, then?" Hermione asked.

"Must be, mustn't they?" the girl said.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Mother, Father. This is Selene McGonagall. She's in my year. Her father, by the way, is Severus Snape."

Hermione's eyes glittered as she smiled at Selene. "Really? The two of them had a _child_? Oh, I would so love to be there when you tell them."

Harry just looked horrified, and Ginny crinkled her nose a bit. "Good on them, I suppose," the redhead said uncertainly.

"Never too late for love," Fred grinned, swooning dramatically.

"Not sure love had much to do with it—not romantic love, anyway," Selene said, somewhat obfuscatingly.

Hermione would have expected an outburst from Ron over the news of Professor Snape's future, but a glance at her friend's furrowed brow told her that he had been drawn back into a conversation with his future family and had not heard a word of what the girl said. "How long d'you expect it will take for them to be finished discussing everything?" Selene asked Scorpius. "We can't just loiter here in the Great Hall forever."

"I can't be certain," Scorpius responded with a frown. "It depends on how quickly they find Professor Riddle. There's a lot to explain, as well."

"Professor Riddle?" Ginny repeated, a peculiar look entering her eyes. She must be remembering her first year. "Any relation to Tom Riddle?"

Scorpius and Selene traded glances, but were rescued by the return of Dumbledore, a scowling Umbridge, a smug Andy, Ben Shacklebolt, and the Heads of House, along with an unfamiliar woman with pale skin and silvery hair that bled blue at the tips.

"Attention, students," Dumbledore said gravely. "As you may have noticed, we have visitors from the future. They will be with us for the foreseeable future"—he paused briefly to chuckle at his own joke— "So let us now welcome them into our noble school." He paused for a rather uncertain but nonetheless enthusiastic applause. "Feel free to acquaint yourself with them and hear their stories, but do bear in mind that time magic is an uncertain art and what seems to be might not always come true. Therefore, do not despair at what the future might hold. I would also request that you not inquire too closely into the reasons for their journey here, as there remains the possibility that knowing may compromise the situation in some way. Now, I'd like to introduce to you a certain Professor Delphini Riddle." He gestured grandly to the woman with silver hair.

She was relatively young for a professor, and her style of clothing belied her serious expression. Her apparel had a distinctly punk or gothic feel: black tights with a black jacket with full-length sleeves and a corset over a plaid dress, the skirt of which was longer on the left than on the right and the collar of which showed through the top of the jacket as a sort of scarf. A black leather belt cinched around her slim waist and looped over her shoulders. When Dumbledore introduced her, she stepped forward with a respectful nod of her head.

"Though our journey is, unfortunately, driven by necessity, it is a pleasure to be here," Professor Riddle said, her voice low and distinctly feminine. "As for my students, as I told you before we left, don't get too swept away by the excitement of being in the past. This is a dangerous time, and it is essential that we not get ahead of ourselves. Behave, just as you would back home." She sent a significant look to the students gathered around Angelina, including Logan and Kyle Weasley, both of whom grinned crookedly.

"Thank you, Professor," Dumbledore said when the woman handed the floor back over to him. "When in times of need, Hogwarts will provide. I believe you will find the common rooms have been extended to accommodate our new arrivals, as have the classrooms. These new students, in order to ensure that their education is not neglected, will be attending classes with their corresponding House and year level. For the duration of her stay here, Professor Riddle has kindly volunteered to instruct classes in Rituals, for her students and for current students who seek to learn, as we do not offer a Rituals class of our own. For those of you hailing from this time, I suggest you seize this opportunity, though attendance will not be mandatory. The times available will be posted in your common rooms once the schedule is decided upon."

Hermione perked up, to the surprise of no one around her. This was a priceless opportunity—to learn not only from a master in Rituals but one who had knowledge of the advancements that would be made over the next… How many years, actually, had the visitors travelled back? At least a decade or two, surely.

Dumbledore continued, "As the new arrivals, I have been told, have yet to eat dinner, and I am sure, in the excitement, many of our students have neglected their own meals in favor of conversing with them, food will be provided in the common rooms soon. For now, it is best that you return to your common rooms for the night, and we will attempt to sort out the rest in the morning." At his words, the food at the various tables disappeared, and he clapped his hands to dismiss them. People broke away from their respective groups and began to file out of the hall.

"I suppose we should go, then," Fred said, smirking. "Since the old genius has commanded it." He and George shared a look, clearly intent on sneaking out that night. Hermione sighed at the two of them.

"What Houses are you lot in?" Draco asked the next generation.

"Ravenclaw for me and Selene," Scorpius answered. "So I suppose I'll see you in the morning." Awkwardly, he darted forward to hug Hermione and Draco. "Good night, Mother, Father."

Hermione smiled a little uncertainly. "Good night, Scorpius." Draco murmured something of the same, and with a wave to Ginny and the rest, Scorpius headed towards the doors. Instead of following him, Selene smiled cheekily and made a beeline for the High Table, where her mother and father stood.

"See you tomorrow, Dad! I'll be up bright and early!" Hugo chirped, hugging Ron enthusiastically.

"You're not in Gryffindor?" Ron asked, surprised both by the news and the hug. He sort of patted Hugo on the back, but the excitable boy did not seem to mind his awkwardness.

"Nope!" Hugo shook his head, pulling back to take Hannah's hand. "I'm in Hufflepuff, like Mum!"

Hannah smiled at him. "I suppose you're with me, then."

Hugo grinned, and Rose said, "I'll be sticking around, though. I'm for Gryffindor." Ron grinned at her, proud that at least one of his kids was in Gryffindor. Rose rolled her eyes, but could not contain a slight smile.

"Wonder what houses our kids are in, Georgie," Fred said to his twin.

"Completely forgot to ask, didn't we?" George replied.

"Ah, well, it'll be a grand surprise!" Fred said.

Ginny frowned. "My children never came to meet me."

Harry smiled crookedly at her. "Doesn't seem like I even have children, Gin."

"Scorpius said you raised Teddy, though," Ginny pointed out. "You and Lu—Merlin's beard, did you marry Luna?" Ginny's eyes widened.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "D'you think…?"

"Sounded like it!" Ginny said. "I hardly noticed!" She giggled. "Wonder what her reaction will be."

Harry groaned, burying his head in his hands. "Nothing you'd expect, I'll wager."

Ginny smirked. "I imagine you like that, if you ended up together."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I do, a bit."

Draco's arm, which had been holding Hermione against him, slipped down to her waist, and he kissed her lightly. "Suppose this is goodbye, then," he murmured. "Wish me luck in the snake den."

"Will you be alright there?" Hermione asked, lips pursed worriedly.

"It's not any of the students I'm worried about," Draco said darkly. "One of them's sure to write to their parents, and when Father finds out…"

Hermione kissed him again. "Be safe."

Draco nodded, then rose to his feet. "Potter, Weasleys," he said as farewell, then walked towards the doors, Hermione gazing worriedly after him.

Ron scowled at his back. "Ferrety git. Can't believe you bloody married him, Hermione," he said, some of the anger from before bleeding into his voice.

"Save it for tomorrow," Ginny ordered, getting to her feet, as well. "It's too late to be throwing a tantrum tonight."

Ron glared, but at a beseeching look from Hannah, quieted. He and Hannah exchanged awkward goodbyes, much to his siblings' amusement, before joining them all in heading out of the Great Hall. The group of Gryffindors were mostly silent for the duration of the walk to the Fat Lady, and, as though by silent agreement, none of them went upstairs to the dorms, taking seats around the common room instead. As Dumbledore had said, the room had been magically enlarged, and a buffet table rested against the far wall, piled high with food.

Excusing herself, Rose headed for the buffet table, and after a few moments, Ron joined her.

Kyle and Logan Weasley, as it turned out, _were _Gryffindors, and they quickly sought out their father and their Uncle Fred. Even taller than their father, they appeared to be only a year or so younger.

"Dad!" one of them said. "Have you seen Chris and his father? Well, one of his fathers."

"I think he calls the other one Pa," the other twin noted.

"You mean Lee's kid?" George asked.

"Never caught who the bloke married. Always thought he'd end up with Katie," Fred admitted.

"Katie Bell? Laurie's mother?" The first twin asked, surprised. "She and Aunt Alicia are girlfriends."

Fred whistled, and George grinned. "Damn, never thought their friendship was like _that._"

"Wonder what they've been up to all this time in the locker rooms," Fred nudged his brother. Ginny rolled her eyes, and Hermione glared at the two of them for their lechery.

Logan and Kyle grimaced. The second twin maneuvered away from that train of thought. "Well, Uncle Lee married a bloke named Roger…" He looked to his twin for clarification. "What was his name before they married? D'you remember?"

The other twin shook his head slowly. "Davies, I think? They never mention it."

"Roger Davies? The skinny Ravenclaw?" Fred asked.

His nephews shrugged. "Dunno. But Chris and his dad are dueling!"

Fred and George grabbed a twin each and tugged them away. "Next time, lead with that!" they said in unison.

Ginny rolled her eyes, slumping back in her chair. "See anyone who looks like me?" she asked glumly.

Hermione scanned the room. "Not really," she began, then gasped as she spotted an older kid, around 16, maybe, with familiar messy hair and white-ish blue eyes. "Harry!" she said, clutching his arm.

"What is it, 'Mione?" he asked grumpily.

Her eyes sparkled. "I think I found someone you'll want to meet." She pulled him across the room to the boy, Ginny tagging along curiously.

Harry gasped when they got close. "Hello," she greeted the boy, who was playing some sort of card game with a blond, rather thickset first-year. "I don't mean to disturb you, but—"

The younger of the two looked up first, then grinned. "Sirius! Your dad's here, after all!"

The boy, Sirius—_that _has _to be Harry's son—_finally lifted his gaze from the cards. He scrambled to his feet. "Dad!" he said, with a grin that rather resembled his namesake. "Where've you been?"

"We couldn't find you earlier, Uncle Harry," the blond explained.

"Where did you look?" Ginny cut in, amused. "We were at the Gryffindor table."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, Mike, why'd we never think to look there?" he asked sarcastically.

The blond, Mike, snorted. "Quit it, cuz. You know you and Mrs. Weasley can talk in sarcasm all day once you start."

"Mrs. Weasley?" Ginny repeated, appalled. "I _let _you call me that?"

"His mum insists," Sirius said with a grimace. "She's relentless about manners."

"'Cousin'?" Harry asked slowly. "But Luna and I don't have siblings."

"Second cousins," Mike explained.

Harry's jaw slackened. "You're _Dudley's _son?"

Mike nodded. "Er, yeah."

"Dudley has a child at Hogwarts?" Harry clarified. Mike nodded uncertainly. Harry was silent a few seconds, then suddenly doubled over in uncontrollable laughter. Sirius stared at his dad as though he'd gone mad, but Hermione understood.

"He's… oh, won't that just stick in Petunia and Vernon's craw," Harry finally said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Blimey, it's a shock and a half to hear that Dudley and I actually _communicate _in the future, but that's _golden._"

Sirius blinked thoughtfully. "Dad never let me visit Mike's gran and grandpa. Do you not get along with them?"

Harry shook his head, snorting. "That's a bloody understatement if I've ever heard one."

"I've met them," Mike said sullenly. "It's always a chore. They used to dote on me and Ian, until I was nine and Ian got his letter. Now they can barely look at us."

"Dudley has _two _kids in Hogwarts?" Harry smirked.

Mike nodded. "Ian's in Hufflepuff."

"I wonder what the odds of that are—having two in the same family when their dad's a muggle," Hermione mused. "Is his wife a witch?"

"No, she's a muggle, too. Ian's a git, though. He lost us the Quidditch cup last year," Sirius scowled.

"You play Quidditch?" Harry asked.

"Beater," Sirius proclaimed proudly.

"Brilliant," Harry grinned.

"You seem normal," Ginny said idly, eyeing Sirius.

"Erm, yeah?" Sirius said, arching an eyebrow. "You seem ginger."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's _odd. _Isn't Luna your mother?"

"Yeah," Sirius said flatly. "We go hunting for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack over hols. That odd enough for you?"

Ginny grinned. "Yeah, actually! So are there any other wee Potters running around?"

Harry looked questioningly at his son. "I always wanted a big family," he admitted.

Sirius answered, "Yeah, but they're all in other houses. Lil's in Slytherin—she's 14–and Lorcan and Lysander are two years younger than her, in Ravenclaw."

"Loads of twins in your generation," Ginny noted.

Hermione smiled fondly at Harry. "You can really tell who named the four of you."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Me and Lily, yeah. Dad got all the boys' middle names, though, too. Lorcan's is Albus, mine is James, and Lysander's is Severus."

Harry blinked incredulously. "I named my son after _Snape?_"

"Professor Snape," Hermione absent-mindedly corrected, and even Sirius rolled his eyes at her.

"Something to do with your mum," Sirius said. "To honor what he did for her, or something."

That confused them all. "What could he possibly have done for my mum?" Harry asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Feel like playing Exploding Snap?" he asked. "I was just about done beating Mike."

"Oi!" Mike protested.

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Prove me wrong, Dursley."

"Little Sirius," Ginny interjected. "Are any of my kids in Gryffindor?"

"Little? I'm _at least _two years older than you right now," Sirius said indignantly.

"But _I'm _older in wisdom," Ginny proclaimed. "Now answer the question."

Sirius scowled. "No, Hyacinth's in Hufflepuff, and Juniper's in Slytherin."

Ginny laughed. "I would have _bet _on Slytherin, but a child of mine and _Astoria Greengrass's _ended up in Hufflepuff?"

"Weird, innit?" Sirius asked.

"Mad," Ginny agreed.

"I'll play," Harry acquiesced. "Exploding Snap, I mean."

"Brilliant!" Sirius grinned. "Let's see if I can beat you as a kid."

"You're a kid, too," Harry scowled.

"Still older than you, I bet," Sirius said. "Oh, and Aunt Hermione? There's a bloke you might be interested to meet. First year, kind of duck-footed, with dark brown hair and a scowly face." He searched the room, then pointed. "Over there, loitering at the buffet table beside Shacklebolt." Sure enough, there was a boy standing awkwardly beside the Head Boy.

"Who is he?" Hermione asked.

"Vladimir Krum." Sirius smirked. "You dated his dad, I think."

Hermione blushed. "Viktor sent his son to Hogwarts?"

Sirius tilted his head mockingly, mouthing 'Viktor'. "Yeah," he said, laying out the cards for another game. "He married a British witch, if I remember right."

Hermione excused herself as Ginny plonked down into a seat to watch Harry and Sirius play. She approached Vladimir somewhat cautiously. "I'm sorry, are you Vladimir Krum?" she asked.

"Yes," Vladimir answered. He had a slight accent. "Who are…" he squinted. "Hermione?" he asked, confused.

Hermione smiled. "Yes. Sirius told me that you're Viktor's son."

"I am," he confirmed, relaxing. "_Tatko's_ not here, so I can't see him," he said glumly. "But I did meet Mum," he said, slightly more optimistically.

"I'm sorry that you can't meet him," Hermione said genuinely. "If you're still here over hols, you might be able to visit with him, though. I can write him, if you like."

"That would be brilliant," he beamed. She waited, but it seemed that was all he was inclined to say.

"Who _is _your mum?" she asked eventually.

"Romilda Krum," he answered.

Hermione suppressed a grimace. "Was her maiden name Vane?" Romilda Vane was one of those seemingly-vapid types that had fawned over Harry over the years, attracted to his fame. She hoped Romilda had matured later, and Viktor had not ended up with a gold-digger for a wife.

"Yes," Vladimir said. "She was _really _excited to hear that she had married _Tatko._"

Hermione snorted. "I'll bet."

"Sausage?" Vladimir offered, gesturing to the buffet table. "They don't have _kebapche _here," he said, frowning.

Hermione shook her head. "I ate in the Great Hall, but thank you."

Vladimir nodded. They talked for a while longer, the conversation a little stilted as Vladimir was shy and Hermione, having never met him (_yet_), had no idea how to draw him out of his shell. When they finished speaking, Hermione excused herself and headed upstairs to her dorm, tired from the events of the day. She suspected she would be up for hours, despite her exhaustion, fretting over what this would mean for her and Draco. Sure enough, after she dressed for bed, she could not drift off, and when her dorm-mates filtered in some time later, she was still wide awake.

Lavender and Parvati were giggling together, and Hermione sighed. Hearing her, Lavender bounded over to her bed. "Hermione! You're still awake! Guess what?"

"What is it, Lavender?" she asked, sitting up.

"Parvati and I have twins! Ananya and Amara Patil. Aren't they such pretty names?" Lavender gushed. Parvati discreetly rolled her eyes, and Hermione guessed that Lavender must have named the children.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry, the two of you are together? I never noticed."

"Well, no," Parvati said, blushing. "Not yet, anyway. But I'm rather happy about it."

Lavender giggled. "Me, too." She hugged Parvati, and both girls blushed as they pulled away. "Isn't it brilliant?"

Idly, Hermione noticed that Ginny was right. There were an _awful _lot of twins in the future. Far more than were at Hogwarts right now. Hermione smiled for them. "Congratulations, then."

Lavender grinned. "They're in the year below us!"

Parvati chimed in, "Ananya is in Gryffindor like us, but Amara's in Hufflepuff."

"They have such beautiful hair, and I must have taught them my favorite braids because they're _wearing _them," Lavender said, then side-eyed Parvati. "Should we tell…"

Parvati looked around, then shrugged. "Couldn't hurt, I suppose."

Lavender whispered, "They're excellent duelists, too. Sounds like you did a good job training us, Hermione."

Hermione smiled proudly, but demurred. "It was mostly Harry, I'm sure."

Lavender giggled. "Sure, keep letting them think that."

Hermione laughed. As much as she and Lavender tended to disagree on things, the girl could be sweet at times. "Well, I'm glad you're happy."

Lavender winked, then smiled mischievously. "So…You and Malfoy, huh?"

Hermione glared. "Don't start, Lavender."

"But he's _handsome," _Lavender whined, eyes widening innocently. "Don't get me wrong, he's a jerk, but I can see why you like him. He has a sharp tongue, and he can talk circles around someone, and we all know that's something you appreciate. Like attracts like, and all that."

"Plus, Padma says that he's basically the second smartest in our year," Parvati added. "And you wouldn't be with someone who wasn't almost as intelligent as you."

"Do you think it will be a problem for you right now, though?" Lavender asked.

"I can't imagine he's too pleased to find out he's married to a muggleborn in the future," Parvati agreed worriedly.

Hermione considered, then decided it would not really hurt anything to tell them. "We've, well, we've actually been dating for a few months. We just never told anyone. Didn't need his parents getting wind of it."

Lavender squealed, and Parvati blinked at her. "That's so romantic!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but admitted, "It is, a bit, but I would prefer there were nothing to worry about at all."

Lavender snorted, stars still in her eyes. "Not to be blunt, Hermione, but if that were true, you wouldn't have chosen a Slytherin, much less a Malfoy."

"I always thought you and Weasley would end up together," Parvati mused. "I'm glad to see I was wrong, though."

"Seems like there's _loads _of Inter-House marriage in the future, actually. D'you think that things are different after school?" Lavender asked perceptively. "That maybe it doesn't matter as much? Because even Padma—"

"Padma married Theo Nott," Parvati took over. "They have two kids now, and one of them is even more intimidating than Nott is. So I have a nephew named Stephen and a niece named Zaina. She's nice—"

"And very pretty—" Lavender added.

"But her brother is so _scary. _He's a year older than us, which doesn't help, he's taller than Nott ever was, and he stares at you before he speaks, like he's dissecting your soul. He spoke Hindi with me, though, which is neat."

"So did Zaina, though," Lavender pointed out.

"True," Parvati admitted.

"I don't think either of them like me much," Lavender deflated. "Stephen was very dismissive of me, and even Zaina kept trying to leave the conversation."

Parvati hugged her consolingly.

"Perhaps it's just the shock of seeing you young," Hermione offered, although she thought privately that Lavender was likely correct. It took a certain type of personality to be fond of Lavender. Not in a bad way, per se, but in the sense that she rubbed many people the wrong way. "It might have made Zaina uncomfortable."

"And Stephen?" Lavender asked, unconvinced but nonetheless cheered that Hermione had bothered at all.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, Parvati's already said that he's a bit weird. Maybe that's just a problem with him. Plus, I suppose it's always possible that the brother-in-law just doesn't like you, and his kids know that."

Lavender blinked. "You think that even though Nott and I marry Padma and Parvati, we don't get along?"

Hermione nodded. "And if the kids know that, they might not want to admit that they don't _know _many of the things you've asked about."

Lavender nodded slowly. "Thanks, Hermione. I'll think about that."

Parvati smiled at Lavender and trailed a light hand down her arm to clasp their hands together briefly. "Good night, Lav."

"Good night," Lavender said, blushing but smiling brightly nonetheless. Hermione smirked at the two of them. _I'm glad good things could come of this. They look happy. _Holding that thought in her mind as her dorm mates shuffled off to their own beds, she laid her head back down on her pillow and was finally able to nod off.


	2. Chapter 2

So, a user mentioned in the reviews that my story seemed to have been copied from a Wattpad story, which is... confusing, to say the least, for a few reasons. The first reason is that I don't think I have ever actually _read _a Wattpad story. I tend to stick to AO3 and ff. Secondly, I admitted in the notes on the first chapter that the main premise was borrowed from an old Drarry story (which, if I recall correctly, was posted on _this _site, not Wattpad), and I would love to give that story due credit if I could remember the title or author. That said, none of what I have written was copied word-for-word, or even paraphrased, from anything I have seen, and any of the characters not taken from canon were pulled straight from my own imagination, so any resemblance to other stories (besides that which I already stated) is completely unintentional. If the issue persists, I am completely willing to take the story down, but I really would like to know _what _I'm being accused of ripping off first.

About the chapter, however: I'm afraid I fell into the trap of using dialogue from a language I do not know. There are a couple lines of French in this chapter, copied straight from Google Translate. If the gaping errors in syntax bug anyone _actually _fluent in the language, my apologies in advance. The intended meaning is stated directly after the lines, which does make me wonder why I didn't just put the English words into italics and say that they were speaking French, but hindsight is 20/20.

Sorry for the abrupt ending, but there really was not a better place to cut it off.

**Glimpses Into A Future Imperfect**

**Chapter Two**

At first, her dreams were pleasant ones—mainly of her and Draco free to be themselves around the ones they loved, but occasionally, Harry and Luna made an appearance, the two of them adorably, bizarrely in love. Unfortunately, as time went on, a shadow disturbed her dreams. Suddenly, she was watching her children, seeing them flee from a threat all too familiar to her.

_But he's dead! _she thought desperately. _He has to be. They said we won!_

In the back of her head, the name slipped in and out like a dolphin through the water—or a snake through the grass. _Riddle… Riddle… Riddle…_

Dumbledore's introduction: _Professor Delphini Riddle!_

It was impossible. Her children's screams echoed in her mind as she woke gasping in the early-morning light.

Sitting up in bed, she berated herself for being silly. Dumbledore would not have let the woman into the castle if she had anything to do with Voldemort.

_Is that true? _her contrary mind questioned. _He let Quirrell in. He let Barty Crouch in. Why not Delphini Riddle? _The thought felt like betrayal, but she could not deny its merit. _She devised the ritual, so if she _is _after something, it requires her to be in this time specifically. What happens _now _that is so significant? What could she want to change?_ Possibilities fluttered through her mind, to be dismissed one by one. The only one that sounded plausible to her was the idea that Riddle wanted the time to help Voldemort prepare for the war so that he would not lose as he did in Riddle's past.

_But why use the name Riddle? _The thought prodded at her. _It's hardly inconspicuous. Why not disguise herself instead of creating that connection to Voldemort?_

Hermione's eyes widened. _Unless she truly _is _a Riddle. But Harry says that Voldemort was an only child, his mum died, and he killed his father and his grandparents. Delphini Riddle is probably not even a decade older than our daughter, so how could she be related to Voldemort except by—_Hermione grimaced. _Merlin, that's disgusting. Voldemort had a _child. _He's basically a bog monster right now. Not to mention, I can't imagine there are very many women willing to carry Voldemort's child without being threatened, coerced, or just plain forced into it. _

Suddenly, she felt a surge of sympathy for Delphini Riddle. To have that legacy… She hoped Delphini had not been raised by Voldemort. No one deserved that childhood.

_I'm being ridiculous, _she decided as she tiptoed to the bathroom to shower for the day. Still, that nagging voice in her head brought to mind the passage from her book on time travel: '_If one stumbles across any act of time magic, one should take the most extensive precautions possible, as time magic rarely leads to a desirable outcome.'_

After a quick shower, Hermione slipped downstairs without waking her dorm mates, only to find a couple people had beat her to it. Neville sat on a sofa in front of the fire, a seventh-year with long brown hair, ice-blue eyes, and elfin features holding his hands between them as she sat close beside him. "Don't worry, Father…" the girl said. "You're happy, and she's even happier. You're right; I don't think the two of you would ever have given the other a single glance were it not for this, but that's alright, isn't it? So long as you love each other eventually."

"I just…" he gazed into the fire for a few seconds. "I don't want her to be trapped. I mean, I don't want to be trapped, either, but I'm not the one leaving my family, a-and my home."

"She's been expecting it her whole life. Well, not you specifically, but the marriage," the girl said. "If she ever had a problem with it, she's long since made her piece with that fact. Besides, you and Aunt Ginny are friends, so it's not as if she never sees her sister, is it? We visit all the time."

Neville sighed. "I… I have to speak with her, don't I? Do you think she'll yell at me?"

The girl snorted daintily. "Not likely. She might be a bit frosty. I'll introduce you at breakfast. You should freshen up. Wear something impressive. Lordly."

Neville grimaced. "I'm not a very lordly presence, Juliet. She'll just laugh at me."

"Sure you are," she encouraged. "Or, well, you'll get there. You just need a bit of confidence." She shooed him away, and he trudged upstairs to the boys' dorms.

Hermione gingerly approached the girl, who now gazed thoughtfully into the fire herself, hands clasped in her lap. "Hello," Hermione greeted. "Are you Neville's daughter?"

"You heard some of that, did you?" she asked, but she did not seem upset. "I'm Juliet Longbottom. It's lovely to see you, Lady Malfoy."

Hermione smiled, rather liking the title. "Not quite yet," she said for the sake of thoroughness. "But I don't mind the address, if that's what you're used to. It's a pleasure to meet you, as well."

Juliet smiled coyly. "And it's nothing to do with you _enjoying _taking Lord Malfoy's name."

Hermione worked to contain a blush. "You certainly tease me more than your father does."

"Not more than my mother does, though," Juliet smirked. "In the future, at least. By how shocked the Slytherin table was to hear Andy's last name, I imagine the two of you aren't so well acquainted yet."

"Oh, that's right," Hermione realized. "You and my daughter would be about the same year, right? Can you tell me about her?"

"She's a brilliant Head Girl," Juliet said After a moment's thought. "Cares about the students. She's quick as a whip, and she's always strictly polite, though she's a dab hand at insulting people without breaking etiquette. You saw how she handled Umbridge."

"I did," Hermione said with a fond huff. "She so resembled her father."

Juliet laughed softly. "I suppose this time can't be so foreign if you and Lord Malfoy are still so in love."

Hermione blushed again. "Ah… So, your mother. Daphne Greengrass, right?"

Juliet blinked, but otherwise did not seem terribly shocked that Hermione knew. "Yes," she admitted. "What gave it away?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, you mentioned you were at the Slytherin table, and I assumed it was to visit your mother. You call me Lady Malfoy, but you call Ginny Weasley 'Aunt Ginny', so unless Neville and Ginny become a lot closer in the future than they are now or Neville and I fall out, the most likely explanation is that the two of you are actually related somehow. Scorpius told us that Ginny marries Astoria Greengrass, so to be her niece, you would have to be Daphne's daughter. That would also explain the way you mentioned your mother visiting her sister often." She hesitated, then added, "Also, if I recall correctly, the Greengrass family has a history of arranging marriages. Draco told me once that he used to be betrothed to Astoria until he managed to convince his parents to terminate the engagement."

Juliet smiled and lightly clapped. "Thorough as ever, Lady Malfoy. Correct on all counts." She thought a moment, then said, "I'm not sure if I should ask you for help with this; you're so young right now. But you do know Father—at least at this age—better than I do, so… How should I convince him this isn't a bad thing? He just got the news yesterday, in a letter from my great-grandmother. He hasn't even spoken to Mother yet."

Hermione admitted, "I'm not sure how much of a help I'll be, but I can try. If I know Neville, he's more worried about what he's forcing _Daphne _into than what he's being forced into himself. He thinks she won't want to marry someone like him. Maybe show him that he's actually one of the best choices for her."

Juliet nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you," she said.

Hermione nodded. "My pleasure." She cast a quick _tempus_, noticed it was late enough that Draco _might _just be awake, and excused herself with a polite farewell to the older girl before she ducked out of the portrait hole. Once in the corridor, she retrieved a small quill from her pocket where she carried it alongside her DA Galleon. Running a hand over the white feather, she changed the tiny inscription on the stem to read, _5th floor—5 min—not urgent. _The feather heated up in response, though not uncomfortably so. That done, she cast a Notice-Me-Not on herself and headed for a small, abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. She and Draco had used it on occasion, so he would not struggle to find it.

Taking a seat at one of the desks, she had only been waiting a few minutes before the door opened and Draco stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He scanned the room, eyebrows furrowing, until she released the charm on herself. Finally, he spotted her, and he rolled his eyes. "The whole school knows we're a couple, Hermione. You don't have to sneak about anymore."

Hermione blinked, not having realized that. "You're right," she admitted. "In all the confusion, I'd forgotten." She pressed her lips together. "Do you think Umbridge knows?"

Draco frowned, as well. "She'd have to be blind not to have realized. She met Andy, after all."

Hermione sighed, shoulders falling. "It's all falling apart, Draco. I'm happy—so happy—not to be hiding anymore, but I can't shake the feeling that something _awful _is waiting in the wings."

Draco walked further into the room, climbing up to sit cross-legged on the desk in front of her. It was entirely too undignified a position for a Malfoy, and she had to press her lips together to prevent a snicker from escaping. "I had nightmares all last night," he admitted. "Losing you, losing my parents. Dying to Voldemort before we ever have the chance to start a family." He shook his head. "Pansy and Vincent's daughter called me 'Lord Malfoy', Hermione. How could I have that title unless my father is dead?"

"He could just be in Azkaban," she pointed out, though she knew it would be little reassurance.

"Damn you, Granger," he growled without heat. "Just because something's accurate doesn't mean you have to bloody say it."

She winced. "Sorry." She tried to think of something more uplifting. "He could have passed the title down to you early."

He chuckled wryly. "Does my father seem like the type to step down early, especially in favor of a son who welcomed a mudblood into the family?" Draco winced at his words. "Er, sorry. I don't mean…"

"I understand," she said quietly. Truthfully, she hated hearing that word in his mouth, but as he was both upset and describing his _father'_s response, she was far more inclined to let it go. "And you're right." She bit her lip, searching for something to say. "Juliet Longbottom called me 'Lady Malfoy'," she told him. At his resulting smile, she relaxed. "That doesn't mean that your mother is dead, too, does it?"

He shook his head. "No, she might still be alive. When the lord dies and the title is passed down to his child, if the child takes a spouse, the spouse inherits the title, as well, regardless of whether the lord's wife is still around. If Father dies and I marry you, Mother would be a Dowager Lady, though people would likely still refer to her as Lady Malfoy for brevity's sake."

Hermione sighed. "That's a relief." Thinking back over his words, she realized, "Wait, Parkinson and Crabbe have a child?" She crinkled her nose. "What an unpleasant couple that must be."

Draco chuckled. "I doubt it was a love match, that's for sure. Pansy threw a fit when Violet introduced herself. Insisted that she couldn't _possibly _be her child."

Hermione frowned. "Poor girl. How did Violet take it?"

"It was a right laugh, actually. Violet's a good two years older than us, so she took one look at Pansy's pouting face and told her to stop being such a brat," Draco said, voice infused with laughter. "It was brilliant. Plus, it got Pansy to stop sniping at me for marrying you."

"How did the rest of your house take the news about us?" Hermione asked worriedly. "You said yesterday they weren't pleased."

"After the initial shock, Pansy was the only one in our year to really give me any grief about it. To be honest, I doubt Vince and Greg even understood what it meant that Andy was our daughter. And as it turns out," he confided gleefully. "Daphne and Millicent ended up with blood-traitor Gryffindors of their own, and Blaise is brother-in-law to a Weasley. As is Daphne, actually. And Tracey's a halfblood herself—she doesn't care."

"What about Nott?" Hermione asked, remembering her discussion with her dorm mates. "His sister-in-law is a Gryffindor, but I'm not sure how fond he is of that fact."

Draco blinked. "Who did he marry, then? Theo never said, just went straight to bed. I knew he had a son in Slytherin, but I haven't talked to the kid yet. Well, I say 'kid'; the bloke's got at least a year on us."

"Padma Patil," she answered. "Lavender—apparently she marries Parvati—said his kids were rather cold to her."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You don't have to hate Gryffindors to dislike a vapid little airhead like Brown."

"She has her moments," Hermione admitted. "But Lavender's not entirely airheaded."

Draco snorted. "_You're _a goody-two-shoes; you're bound to say that. She's _annoying, _Granger."

Hermione shrugged, opting not to press the subject. "So, how is Zabini related to the Weasleys? Whom did he marry?"

"Gabrielle Delacour—the little girl who got kidnapped last year for the Second Task," Draco responded.

"Really?" Hermione said, blinking. "She has to be at least six years younger than him!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're thinking like a muggle, Granger. Witches and wizards live for ages. Six years is a drop in the cauldron. So long as they weren't married straight out of school, I don't see a problem with it."

"You're right," she said, pursing her lips. "Still, I suppose it's for the best she's not here. That would be a difficult thing to come to terms with at nine years old, having a future child with a teenager. Do they _have _a child?" she asked.

Nodding, Draco clarified, "Marinette Zabini. She seems to speak more French than English, but she's fluent enough. She's a little firstie in our house, and she trailed Blaise around, chattering at him in French, while he nodded along because he couldn't understand a word." He chuckled as he said it.

"Then how did you know all this about their family?" Hermione asked with a furrowed brow.

Draco smirked. "He might not speak French, but _I _do."

"_Je ne savais pas ça,"_ Hermione said in surprise. _I didn't know that. _

"_Ma famille était française à l'origine," _he explained. _My family was from France originally_. "_N'avez-vous pas réalisé que je parlais le langage de l'amour?"_ He winked at her. _Didn't you realize I spoke the language of love?_

She laughed lightly. "_Charmeur." _He leaned back confidently in response. She switched back to English. "My family used to vacation in France, so I know the language, but I'm a little unpracticed." She fell quiet for a moment, then said, "That's quite sad, though, that he couldn't speak to his daughter." She could not imagine having her potential children so close and yet being separated by a language barrier.

Draco shook his head. "Don't feel too sorry for him. He found out eventually that she spoke Italian, as well, so they were able to converse in that."

"Good," she said, then sighed. "Things are better in Gryffindor Tower, but I'm still waiting for the fallout. Ron hasn't spoken to me yet."

Draco scowled, but she appreciated that he at least attempted to be sympathetic. "I'm sure Weasley'll come round. The two of you and Potter make a disgustingly resilient trio."

Hermione snorted. "We've never introduced _you_ into the mix before, though."

Draco winced. "I'm not all too fond of that phrasing, Granger."

She thought about it, then swatted him lightly on the shoulder. "Oh, grow up."

"Never," he promised, pulling her forward and repositioning so that his legs were dangling down from the desk and she was standing between them, their bodies close together.

"You _married _me, Malfoy," she said quietly, savoring the fact. "I hadn't thought you would."

Draco chuckled at her words. "I'm not surprised," he murmured in her ear. "This was never a casual thing, Granger."

Hermione smiled, resting a hand on his chest. "Good." She began to lean forward, then stopped abruptly, eyes widening. "Merlin, can you imagine the wedding?" she blurted.

She felt the vibrations in his chest as Draco laughed heartily. "We'll make it work," he promised, then pulled her in for a kiss.

* * *

When they went down to breakfast an hour later, they did it together. Hermione was still blushing heavily and her hair was even wilder than usual, but they had mostly managed to tame their appearances so as to appear as though they had not been fooling around in an abandoned classroom. The school might have known that they were together, but, despite Draco's comment the night before, they'd both prefer that no one know the specifics. They split up to eat at their respective tables, with Draco squeezing her hand tightly in farewell before joining his fellows. When Hermione took her usual seat at Gryffindor table, relieved to see that Ron was absent, Harry was staring at her oddly. "What is it?" she asked her friend.

"You and him," he said, focusing on his breakfast once more. "It's still weird, seeing you together." Hermione tried to think of something reassuring to say, but Harry deflected before she could do. "Where were you this morning, 'Mione? Neville said you were awake at half six." Hermione glanced down the table at the boy in question, finding him sitting with his daughter, who seemed to be coaching him. His clothes were finer than usual, and he had to have done something with his hair.

"Where do you think, Harry?" Ginny asked, smirking. "She and Malfoy walked in together."

Harry's face contorted like he'd bit into a lemon. "Right, that's enough information, thanks."

Hermione shrugged lightly. "You did ask," she teased. She scanned the rest of the table, noticing it had been elongated to fit the future students. Not all of the students seated at the table were the ones that had been in Gryffindor Tower last night; it seemed that the new arrivals had opted to sit with relatives or friends rather than divide themselves by House. Closest to Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were Sirius; Mike Dursley; a rather leanly-muscled boy who nevertheless looked to be his brother; a girl about Ginny's age with white-blonde hair and brilliant emerald eyes; two strawberry-blonde firsties, one of whom had Ginny's hazel eyes while the other's were ice-blue; and a boy, also around Ginny's age, whose features were strongly reminiscent of a certain quarter-Veela. When her gaze fell on Sirius, the older boy gave her a cheeky wave, and she rolled her eyes but smiled fondly.

The boy who looked like Fleur coughed, and Ginny blinked. "Oh!" she said suddenly. "Right. 'Mione, this is Louis Delacour, the one your son was talking about last night. The one who gets teased all the time by Fred's daughters."

Louis sputtered, "I do n—_Tante Ginny!"_

Ginny giggled, then flashed a hand dramatically in the direction of the two firsties. "This is Hyacinth Greengrass," she said, and the one with blue eyes waved. "And Juniper Greengrass." The other one smiled at Hermione. "And they are my _adorable _daughters who _finally _came to see their mum." She glared playfully at her daughters.

Hyacinth, whom Hermione remembered was actually in _second _year, smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Mum."

"That's alright, darling, you found your way to me eventually," Ginny said indulgently. "Aren't they cute, Hermione?" she cooed. "Cinthie's a killer songwriter, and Junie plays Quidditch!" Louis coughed again, and Ginny groaned. "Oh, fine." Turning to the others, she gestured to each in turn. "You already know Sirius and Mike, and this is Mike's brother, Ian." Hermione smiled at them in greeting. Indicating the white-blonde girl, Ginny finished with a flourish, "And this lovely soul is Lily Helia Potter."

"You're Harry's daughter," Hermione said, leaning forward in interest.

"I am!" Lily said with a cheerful smile. "And _you're _my lovely Aunt Hermione, only tinier."

As one, Juniper, Hyacinth, and Sirius all groaned. When the older generation all turned to them for an explanation, Hyacinth pouted at Hermione. "She's _always _your favorite, Aunt 'Mione. Even when you don't know her."

Ginny laughed. "Don't worry, little blue. It's not you—she just loves Lily's father more than anyone in the whole wide world." She smirked teasingly at Hermione, who blushed but smiled at Harry, who returned a lopsided grin.

"Even Uncle Draco?" Juniper piped up.

Ginny snorted. "Definitely. Does Malfoy really let my kids call him that?"

Juniper smirked, and abruptly Hermione was reminded that this girl was a Slytherin. "No, but I do it anyway, just to make his face do this rubbery thing…" She sighed blissfully.

Sirius scowled, rearranging his eggs and beans to spell rude words. "I'm Dad's kid, too, and she doesn't fawn over me the same way she does Lily."

Hermione bit her lip guiltily. "Am I really so bad?"

"Never!" Lily chirped with a cheeky smile. "Don't change a thing, Aunt Hermione."

"They're exaggerating," Ian said, rolling his eyes. "You just get along with Lil better than the others. And Sirius, it's not Lady Malfoy's fault you're always breaking the rules and running headfirst into trouble."

Sirius glared balefully at his cousin.

Hermione giggled, looking sideways at Harry. "It's not because I love Harry, then; it sounds like Sirius is the most like his father!"

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved her shoulder lightly. "Ha-ha."

Hermione nodded at Hyacinth, "So, I know _you're _in Hufflepuff—" Juniper "—And _you're _in Slytherin—" Ian "—Sirius mentioned that _you're _in Hufflepuff—" Lily "—And that _you're _in Slytherin, and Mike and Sirius were in the common room last night, so they're Gryffindor. But what house are you in, Louis?"

"Hufflepuff," Louis answered promptly. "Hugo, Hyacinth, Ian, Molly, Romulus, and I spent the rest of the night talking with Aunt Hannah and with Daria's mum. Daniel joined in eventually, too, since neither of his parents are here at Hogwarts."

Ginny groaned. "Alright, time out. That sentence had loads of unfamiliar names."

Louis glanced at her confusedly. "Which ones?"

Hermione took over when Ginny looked fit to be tied. "Hugo is Ron's son, Romulus is Fred's, and Daniel is Oliver Wood's. We don't know about Molly or Daria, nor do we know who her mother is."

"Moll hasn't introduced herself yet? Where the hell's she been, then? It's not like her parents are here for her to pester instead," Sirius said, wincing as he accidentally rested his elbow in his porridge. Lily rolled her eyes and magicked the stain away. Sirius grinned at her in thanks.

"Molly is Louis's cousin," Lily explained. "Molly Weasley, obviously."

"Not entirely obvious!" Hyacinth pointed out. "Louis's name is Delacour, and his dad was a Weasley, too."

Lily blinked at the little girl. "Oh, I suppose you're right. Still, Moll's name is Weasley. Miss Audrey took Mr. Percy's name when they married."

Ginny snorted a laugh. "Wait, my brother's Bill _Delacour _in the future?"

Louis sighed. "No, Dad's name is still Weasley. _Maman _is the oldest daughter, so the Delacour name passes down through her to me, Victoire, and Dominique."

"Why do you call him Mr. Percy?" Harry asked Lily. "He seems like the kind of bloke to insist on a more proper address."

"Isn't it obvious, Daddy?" Lily said, tossing her hair primly. "If we called them Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, we'd never know who we were talking about!"

Harry chuckled at his daughter. "Fair point."

"As for Moll," Lily said, turning to Sirius. "She, Alya, and Ashley are probably pestering Daniel like they always are."

"Well, what about her sister, then?" Sirius asked. "If they'd met her, she would have told them about Moll."

"Lucy's been sitting with Aunt Luna, of course," Hyacinth said. "Along with Lorcan and Lysander."

Sirius looked as though he could slap himself. "Right—she adores Mum. I suppose she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to meet her while she's young. Plus, she's used to sitting at Ravenclaw."

"Are they avoiding me? Lorcan and Lysander, I mean." Harry asked with trepidation.

"Not at all," Lily reassured. "They just… well, you know Mum. They're a little like her. They do things, and there's not always a clear reason why. But we'll drag them and Mum outside after breakfast and we can all go for a walk on the grounds together as a family," she promised. Harry smiled gratefully at his daughter, and suddenly Hermione could see why Lily was supposedly her favorite.

"Yeah, then we can go for a fly, and I'll teach you some of my Quidditch tricks," Sirius smirked.

Harry glared at him, affronted. "I'm plenty good at Quidditch, thanks."

Sirius's smirk grew. "You've been playing since you were, what, eleven? I've got at least nine years of practice on you."

"And the benefit of being taught by a more practiced version _of_ _you,"_ Hermione pointed out. "It would be almost impossible for him to know less than you at this stage."

Harry scowled at her. "Traitor."

Hermione smiled innocently, and Lily giggled. "So who is Daria, then?" Hermione asked after a few seconds.

Ian answered idly, "Daria Bones. She's a Slytherin in my year. Her dad's a weird bloke named Terry Boot. Don't know who her mum is, though."

Lily sighed. "Her mum's Susan Bones—the Auror who oversaw the ritual? How could you have forgotten that?" she demanded.

Ian rolled his eyes. "I have better things to do than memorize the bloodlines of everyone at Hogwarts. I'm not some poncey pureblood."

"_I'm both gay and a pureblood, Ian," _Louis said, his voice strained. "Can you _please _watch your mouth?"

"That's not what I meant, mate. I don't have a problem with your sexuality or your blood status," Ian said, affronted.

"It may not have been what you meant, but it's definitely what you said!" Hyacinth huffed. "Junie and I are pureblood, too, and our mothers are both! So hush!"

Ian groaned. "Fine, fine. Sorry, girls. Sorry, Louis. Sorry, Mrs. Weasley."

Ginny just looked amused. "Apology accepted."

"Speaking of Hyacinth's mother," Hermione said to Ginny. "Have you spoken to Astoria yet?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. I should probably do that, shouldn't I?" She stood abruptly, abandoning her plate. "Want to come along? You can visit your little _boyfriend_ while we're at it."

Suspecting that this was Ginny's way of requesting a little emotional support, Hermione quickly agreed, and she stood up, as well, patting Harry on the shoulder. "It was nice meeting the lot of you," she said to the future children.

"Wait, Mum!" Hyacinth blurted. "We're coming with!"

"We can't pass up seeing Mother again," Juniper added. The two girls followed Hermione and Ginny over to the Slytherin table. On their way, Hermione idly noticed Ron and Rose entering the Great Hall, seemingly arguing.

"Look what the kneazle dragged in," Draco said with a smirk as they neared the Slytherins. "Miss me already, Granger?"

Hermione snorted, but kissed him lightly on the cheek. "If I'd known it would further inflate your ego, I'd have stayed at Gryffindor table."

Parkinson made a disgusted noise. "Draco, tell your pet _mudblood_ she's not welcome here."

"I make it a point not to lie to my girlfriend," Draco said with a glare. "She will be welcome here, or I will make sure you regret ever having met me, Pansy. Is that clear?"

Pansy scoffed, but nodded reluctantly. "Whatever," she said, and turned away.

"Granger, Weasley," Blaise Zabini greeted coolly. Rather than taking offense, Hermione got the feeling that Zabini just acted that way to most people. "What brings you here?" Seated next to him was the little girl Hermione recognized as having been the first to speak when they first materialized last night. Hermione assumed this was Marinette Zabini.

"Mum wants to meet Mother!" Hyacinth spoke up, jumping a little in excitement.

There was a delicate laugh from a blonde-haired girl with ice-blue eyes who bore a distinct resemblance to Daphne Greengrass, only with a more petite, less willowy frame. "She already knows me, little one. We're in the same year."

"Not as the future mother of my children, though," Ginny said sassily, taking a seat next to the girl who must be Astoria. "Actually," she said, turning to her daughters curiously. "Which of us carried the two of you, anyway?"

"Mother gave birth to me, and you carried Cinthie," Juniper replied, searching for a seat but noticing there was no room.

"Here," Draco said, catching the glance and vacating his place on the bench. "You two take this seat. I'll go prop Granger up so she doesn't fall straight to the floor when she inevitably swoons at my undeniable charm."

Hermione laughed at his audacity. "You are even more delusional than usual today," she said.

"Am I?" he murmured, sending her a heated look that, damn him, did make her feel a little weak in the knees.

"Save it for a storage cupboard or something, you two," a rather plump girl with straight black hair instructed, grimacing. _Millicent Bulstrode, _Hermione recalled, wincing at the memory of the Polyjuice Potion mishap in second year. "Bloody hell, can this whole affair of yours go back to being a secret?"

"I caught you out after hours with Cormac bloody McLaggen a few weeks ago, Bulstrode," Draco snapped. "I don't think Granger and I could ever be more disgusting than that."

"Well, you're right about that," Millicent snorted loudly. "I still can't believe I apparently have his child. He's got all the charm of the giant squid."

"And just as many tentacles," Hermione commented, remembering some of the times she had met him in passing.

Millicent laughed. "Good one, Granger. Cordelia's nice for a 'claw, though, and she hates her sperm donor, too, so that's a relief."

_Huh. _Hermione supposed it was too much to expect that every one of them would have picture-perfect futures, but she had been sort of lulled into thinking that way before hearing that Millicent ended up impregnated by a deadbeat and left to raise the child alone.

Juniper, having joined her sister in taking Draco's vacated seat, piped up, "Delia's really smart, too. Top of our year."

Millicent grinned. "Guess she's going places, huh?"

"Isn't it weird that almost none of our kids end up in the houses we were in, though?" Ginny asked. "I mean, my parents were Gryffindors, and every single one of my brothers was in Gryffindor, too, but we raised…" She quickly counted them up. "Five Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, three Slytherins, and only three Gryffindors—plus whatever Victoire was, I suppose."

"Vic was a Ravenclaw," Juniper said promptly.

Astoria raised an impressed eyebrow. "That was some quick maths, Ginevra."

Ginny smiled flirtatiously. "I'm a woman of many talents."

Draco's face contorted in disgust. "The fourteen-year old Weasley is flirting. Granger, please _obliviate _me."

Hermione laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "It's alright, Malfoy. Just try not to think about it."

"I've noticed the same," Blaise commented. "The majority of the children I've seen so far, my little _passerotta _aside," he said with a fond, though certainly somewhat sardonic, glance at Marinette. "Are in different houses than their parents."

"Maybe Lavender's right," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Maybe in the future, House loyalties don't mean quite so much."

"Brown said that?" Draco said disbelievingly. "That's shockingly perceptive of her."

"She has her moments," Hermione insisted.

Having been unaware of her approach, Hermione had to bite back a startled yelp when Daphne Greengrass suddenly appeared in her peripheral vision, searching for a seat at the table. Fortunately for the girl, someone further along left the table, and Daphne was able to squeeze in between her sister and Pansy Parkinson.

Astoria cleared her throat daintily and indicated her sister. "Ginevra, this is my sister, Daphne. Daphne, this is Ginny Weasley."

"So _you're _the one who marries my sister," Daphne said coldly.

"Yeah," Ginny said, smirking. "And if I overheard Neville's panicking correctly, you're the one who snags one of my mates."

"'Panicking?'" Daphne repeated, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Does he not want to marry me?" Beside her, Astoria frowned worriedly.

"It's not that," Hermione interrupted quickly. "He's just worried that you're being forced into something you don't want."

Daphne sighed as though exasperated, but Hermione suspected that was relief in her eyes. "Typical Gryffindor chivalry," Daphne commented. "I suppose that's why our daughter said Longbottom might be nervous but not to worry."

"I've met Juliet," Hermione said, smiling. "I think both of you should be proud of her."

Daphne smiled slightly. "Thank you."

As though summoned by their conversation—though it was far more likely that they had simply noticed Daphne enter the Great Hall—Juliet crossed over from Gryffindor table, Neville trailing behind her. Hermione smiled at the brave expression on his face. "Mother," Juliet greeted Daphne. "I'm sure you know Father already, but I'd like to introduce the two of you again. Neville Longbottom, this is my mother, Daphne Greengrass. Mother, this is Neville Longbottom."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Longbottom," Daphne said coolly.

"The pleasure's mine, Miss Greengrass," Neville said, nervously, though his voice managed to be smooth.

"We have a great deal to discuss," Juliet said. "Would you like us to wait until you're finished eating? We could also pack some breakfast up and sit on the grounds, if you wouldn't mind."

Daphne smiled at her daughter. "That sounds lovely."

Juliet retrieved a cloth from her robes, waved her wand, and a variety of foods from the table wrapped themselves snugly up inside. "Shall we go, then?"

Daphne nodded, kissed her sister on the cheek, and followed the two of them out of the Great Hall. There was a few seconds' silence, then Ginny blurted to Astoria, "So do you think your sister approves of me? Because I couldn't get a read on her at all."

Astoria giggled. "She's withholding judgment, I think. But it's nice that you're worried. Though, really, _your_ family is far more intimidating."

Ginny grinned. "Nah. If any of my brothers gives you trouble, just hex them or send them to me, and I'll Bat Bogey them until they don't have a problem anymore."

"Hermione," a soft voice said from over her shoulder. It garnered a few strange looks from the other students, but they continued their conversation unabated.

Hermione blinked, startled, then turned around to find Luna's face far too close to hers. "Yes, Luna?"

"Won't you come with us?" Luna said, tilting her head. Hermione waited for her to elaborate, but Luna said nothing else.

"Where exactly do you want me to go, Luna?" she asked.

"Wherever you want, of course," Luna said. "We should all be free to follow our hearts, don't you think?"

"I meant presently," Hermione said, searching for patience. "Where are you inviting me?"

"Oh," Luna said, as though Hermione was the one who should have been clearer. "To walk with us, of course. My future children have organized a lovely outing with Harry and me."

"I was under the impression that it was supposed to be a family thing, Luna. Wouldn't I be intruding?" she asked.

"You _are _family, silly," Luna said matter-of-factly. "Harry considers you a sister. Don't you know that?" she asked sadly.

Hermione smiled, touched despite herself. "I—Well—If you don't mind, then, I would love to join you, Luna."

Luna nodded, smiling widely, and offered her hand. "Then we should go. We'll have to watch out for dabberblimps if we walk by the lake, though. It's the aquatic season for them."

Hermione kissed Draco on the cheek quickly in farewell, then took Luna's hand. Together, they walked towards the Gryffindor table. Knowing she would regret it, Hermione asked, "What exactly is a dabberblimp?"

"Oh, they're extraordinarily dangerous creatures," Luna said seriously. "They kill dozens of merpeople every year. Thankfully, witches and wizards are rarely affected by their miasma because we don't tend to swim in frigid lakes during the cold season."

Hermione bit back her disbelieving response. "That's very interesting, Luna."

Luna shot her a knowing look. "You don't believe me. But that's okay. Just don't go swimming, alright?"

Hermione smiled. "That, I can promise."

Luna smiled, humming tunelessly under her breath.

"So you're coming, too, Aunt Hermione?" Lily asked when they approached. "I'm glad."

"Of course you are," Sirius groused. "Suck-up." Lily glared at him.

"Settle down, you two," Harry groaned, sounding like an actual father, then smiled at Hermione. "Lily and Luna are right, though. This wouldn't be a family thing without you there."

Hermione smiled, then broke away from Luna to hug Harry tightly, grinning when he choked on her hair. "Oh, Harry."

Harry hugged her awkwardly in return, then backed away, looking nervously at Luna. "Shall we go, then?"

A pair of twins, glassy-eyed as Luna and mostly identical save for their hair—one of them had Harry's messy black hair and the other had white-blond hair cropped short—walked over to take Luna's hands, one on either side. She swung their hands cheerfully, and smiled at Harry. "That would be lovely, Harry."

Harry grinned. "Alright then." He led the way out of the Great Hall, and Luna skipped cheerfully behind, the twins attempting to keep up with her stride. Lily giggled at the sight they made, and Hermione found herself stifling a laugh herself.

"Come on, then," Sirius grumbled good-naturedly, gesturing Lily and Hermione forward. "Might as well get this over with. Blimey, it's like babysitting your parents."

"It's _literally _babysitting our parents," Lily grinned. "They're so _young."_

"What are they like, in the future?" Hermione asked curiously as they exited the castle, shivering in the chilly air. She should have worn a jacket.

Sirius idly cast warming charms over the three of them. Hermione smiled at him gratefully. "Basically just like this." He gestured ahead to where Harry was nervously running a hand through his hair, messing it up as he spoke to Luna. Hermione laughed softly as she remembered that Sirius—Sirius Black, that is—had mentioned Harry's father doing the same whenever he was around Lily.

"Only with more cuddling and kissing," Lily crinkled her nose.

"They both seem like cuddlers," Hermione noted.

Sirius snorted. "You and Uncle Draco emphatically _don't, _but you're always curled up together."

Hermione shrugged sheepishly. "I've always been a little touchy-feely. I know it annoys the boys sometimes that I hug them at the drop of a hat."

Lily beamed. "I don't mind you hugging me, Aunt Hermione!" she said, embracing her enthusiastically.

Hermione laughed at the fourth-year, wrapping her arms around her. "That's good to know, Lily."

Sirius groaned again, picking up speed. "If I wanted to be disgusted, I would just watch Dad ineptly flirting with Mama. In fact, I think I will." With that, he caught up to his parents, leaving Lily and Hermione behind.

"Should we join them?" Hermione asked her.

Lily nodded, pulling her forward to walk closer to the main group.

"—and Daddy said that so long as you're careful not to get me pregnant _now, _that he'll not have a problem with you, since I'm so happy with it," Luna was saying.

Hermione grimaced, and Harry chuckled nervously. "That's, er, good to know, Luna."

"Do you think Stubby Boardman will like me?" she asked.

"Who is Stubby Boardman?" Hermione interjected, bewildered.

"That's who you think Sirius Black is, right?" Harry asked, once again demonstrating that he listened to Luna far more than Hermione did. "Why would it matter if he likes you?" he asked with trepidation.

"Because he's your godfather, of course," the blonde answered mildly.

"How—How do you know that?" Harry gasped, glancing around as though someone might be spying.

"You were surrounded by wrackspurts the year he escaped from Tahiti," she hummed, then said lightly, "Also, you named our son after him."

Lily giggled, and Harry groaned.

Hermione commented truthfully, "Honestly, Luna? I think he'd absolutely adore you."

Harry groaned again. "He would, wouldn't he?"

Luna hummed happily. "That's lovely to hear. I'd hate to make a bad impression on your family."

"So which of your brothers is Lorcan and which is Lysander?" Hermione asked Lily in an undertone.

"Oh, that's right. You haven't been introduced. Lor! San!" Lily clapped to get their attention.

The fraternal twins detached themselves from their mother and trotted back to face Lily and Hermione. "Yes, Lil?" the one with black hair asked.

"Say hello to Aunt Hermione! This is Lorcan Albus," she said, gesturing to the twin with white-blond hair. "And this is Lysander Severus." This time, she gestured to the one with black hair.

"It's lovely to meet you, boys," Hermione said, smiling at them.

"We've met already," Lorcan said, looking at his brother.

"She wouldn't remember, though," Lysander pointed out.

"We traveled through time _and_ memory," Lorcan noted.

"Hello, Aunt Hermione," Lysander said, his head snapping to the side to meet Hermione's eyes.

"Yes, hello," Lorcan added.

"They're a little weird," Lily said as explanation. "And they don't really mind being weird. But they're family."

Sirius chimed in as Lorcan and Lysander wandered off to examine an oddly-shaped rock, "You're not so normal yourself, Lil."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah."


End file.
